


Through Deeper Darkness

by Stormbutterfly



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Character Development, Coming of Age, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dark Fantasy, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Friendship, Horror, Major Original Character(s), Novel Pacing/Length, Post-Movie(s), Survival, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 52,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormbutterfly/pseuds/Stormbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah returned from the Labyrinth more changed than she could have ever imagined. All she wants is to return to the world that has become more real to her than the mortal world ever was, but dangers untold and hardships unnumbered stand between her and the way home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back Again

**Author's Note:**

> ***This is my little tribute to the memory of David Bowie who will always be the Goblin King. May he reign forever.***
> 
> Take note that I've fudged the timeline on when Sarah's original journey occurred for various stylistic reasons. In this story, Sarah's original trip to the Labyrinth occurred at the beginning of summer in 1996, NOT 1986.
> 
> I own my original characters and the precise order I put my words down in. The world and characters of the Labyrinth film will sadly never belong to me. I just like to play in their sandbox. I make no money off of this. Seriously. As I’m self-employed and a bit obsessive, I think I might actually be losing money because of it. That said, if anyone owns a spare Jareth, I’m happy to give him a good home. I have references.

            Sarah knew better than to look directly at them. She could study them only through passing glances and from the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t certain exactly what would happen if she ever indicated her awareness of their presence, only that the penalty would be far too high. She had seen them for the first time only a few days after her return from the Labyrinth. Tiny fairies were dancing amongst the boughs of a massive tree by the library. She knew not to look. The knowledge was instinctive. That which mortal eyes were not meant to see could never be acknowledged.

            Only once had she faltered. That one had been so different from anything she had previously seen that she paused to examine it. It was fairy-like, but twisted, with wings like blackened blades. It rose from the surrounding flowers with teeth bared and claws readied. Sarah shifted her gaze to the blossoms beside it and made a comment to Karen, her stepmother, about the beautiful landscaping. From the corner of her eye, she watched it hesitate, head tilted as it studied her. Finally, it gave a slight nod and departed. She understood the rules then. They knew she could see them, but as long as she never made issue of it, they wouldn’t punish her.

            In the month after her journey, she had all but abandoned the park. There were too many of them there. It would be too easy to look for too long. Besides, she had more important matters to occupy her. She no longer had time to live in fantasies. The crushing regret that filled the first days after her return quickly transformed into steely determination. She had to go back. She didn’t belong here. It was up to her to find the path.

            Sarah didn’t regret saving Toby. She wouldn’t allow herself to. His life was never hers to give. She loved him, she supposed. At least, she’d certainly felt something powerful when she rushed to his rescue. She knew that she would fight to defend him. Regardless of what she felt for Toby, she loved the Labyrinth more and she wanted, desperately, to go home to it. She wasn’t ready though. Not yet. She needed to be stronger. A spoiled little girl with no real skills would not be one who thrived in the Underground.

            Her father and stepmother seemed relieved, but hesitant, when she packed up most of her toys and costumes and stored them in the attic. She remembered her stepmother asking if she was certain that she wanted them gone. Sarah had smiled at her and laughed. “They’re not really gone, Karen. Just put away. Besides, I’m certain. I need to find better ways to spend my time than daydreaming.” She deflected their questions about her hours in the library just as easily. “I won’t be a kid much longer. I need to find my path. I love acting, but I want more than that. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life pretending I’m someone I’m not. How will I find where I’m going if I don’t do any research?” Sarah had learned to pick what she said with care. She knew to use her right words. She never told them the real reasons behind her altered priorities, but she never actually lied either. She did her chores without complaint and worked hard to get along with Karen. They were pleased that she was finally maturing and left her in peace. It was surprising how quickly their view of her changed. Karen’s especially.

            With most of Sarah’s childhood possessions packed away, her room was left quite empty. This didn’t bother her. She didn’t need things like she once had. Karen hated it, saying it looked like no one really lived there. They spent an entire Saturday crawling through second hand stores and used furniture galleries. She had new bookshelves, a new dresser, and a new desk. All that remained was her bed, vanity, and the chest that had once been a toy box. Sarah stored her old scrapbooks and mementos in the chest. She no longer wished to be surrounded by images of her absent mother. Karen noticed and smiled, more determined than ever to help her stepdaughter.

            Karen and Sarah spent several weekends working to transform Sarah’s room into something new. They stripped the wallpaper and painted the walls a cool grey that reminded Sarah of stone. They refinished all her furniture with a dark mahogany stain. The patchwork comforter and the canopy over her bed were removed. Sarah chose a deep emerald comforter to replace the one her mother had selected when Sarah was a little girl. It was made from rich velvet and was expensive, but Karen insisted that they had saved so much by choosing used furniture that it didn’t matter.

            Sarah kept the Escher print on her wall, but framed photographic prints replaced the rest. She found a stunning photo of the Longleat Hedge Maze and hung it where it could be seen from her bed. Soon it was joined by images of the Chartres Labyrinth, the Hampton Court Palace Hedge Maze, the Labyrinth at the Basilica of Saint Quentin, and the Overhanging Gardens of Marqueyssac. When Sarah stood in her room, visions of Labyrinths surrounded her. Whether they were inlaid into stone or carved into greenery, it made little difference. She felt comforted by their presence. She told Karen that she wanted to travel someday. Perhaps she could study abroad during college or visit Europe afterwards? Karen praised the idea. In her eyes, travelling abroad was a proper sort of dream for a young lady. It was one that could be achieved and showed clearly that her stepdaughter had finally stopped living in childish fantasies.

            Left to her own devices during most weekdays, Sarah spent hours pouring over every scrap of data she could find on the Fae and the realms they controlled. She studied myths and folklore from across the world with singular focus, filling binder after binder with careful notes. She made friends with the librarians, telling them that she was trying to make decisions regarding her future and was deeply interested in the study of folklore. They were more than happy to help the serious, driven young woman they perceived her to be. She knew they thought that she wanted to be a college professor, though she had never told them that. She didn’t bother to correct their misassumption. There was no point really. It wasn’t as though she could explain her real motives. Besides, she would no doubt focus on studying the same topics in college if she hadn’t returned to the Underground before then.

            One month after Sarah returned from the Labyrinth, she realized that she was no longer studying legends like she would a course for school. Instead, she began skimming the pages until her eyes would catch a shimmer, like heat rising over the words. She knew, as she had known not to look directly at the strangeling creatures she could now perceive, that those were the words with power in them. Those were the ones she needed. She went back through her earlier notes and transferred the important parts to her new binder. All the rest went into the trash.

            At first, the shimmer appeared only over written words. Sarah assumed that was simply the limit of her ability. Limited though it was, she was grateful for it. She was certain it would help her find her way. The first time it appeared over an object, it clung to a gift Karen gave her. Karen had gone to an estate sale with one of her friends while Sarah watched Toby for the afternoon. There, Karen found a painting, an unsigned original canvas, depicting a Venetian masquerade. No one else even seemed to notice it, but she thought of Sarah’s dreams of travel and bought it on a whim. She thought the colors would go well with Sarah’s recently redecorated room. Sarah stared at the painting as though entranced and Karen happily accepted her thanks, thinking no more of it. That night, Sarah spent hours staring at the painting. It was beautiful, compelling, terrifying. It thrummed with power. She knew it depicted the dream masquerade she’d once been trapped in. She recognized the revelers. It reminded her of things she was better off forgetting. It reminded her of _Him_. Sarah hung it above her bed where she could avoid looking at it and tried to ignore the strains of familiar music that wafted above her every night as she fell asleep.

            The day after Sarah received the painting, she noticed the shimmer in front of her vanity mirror and around the red-covered book that prompted her journey. _These things have power in them,_ she realized. _I can see enchantments._ She wanted to summon her friends in the mirror. It would be so nice to see them again. She wanted to tell them everything that was happening to her, to hear their thoughts. She wanted them to know that she was coming home as soon as she was able. She resisted the urge. They had already earned the Goblin King’s wrath by helping her. She didn’t want to risk causing them even more trouble. Part of her was afraid as well, afraid that they would tell her to stay in the mortal world. She knew she wouldn’t be able to forgive them for it if they did. It was better to wait until she could see them in the Labyrinth.    

            After two months of research, Sarah was certain that the Labyrinth was only a small portion of the Goblin Kingdom and that the Kingdom itself was only a small portion of the Underground. She was also certain that she hadn’t truly seen the Labyrinth itself, only an aspect of it. The Sarah that had walked into the Labyrinth was a child and it had presented her with a face that a child could process. She doubted it would be so friendly the next time. She would need to be prepared for whatever awaited her return, though she wasn’t sure how to go about that. _It doesn’t matter,_ she told herself. _I’ll just keep looking until I find the answers._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.   
>  Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	2. The Shadows Fall

            Sarah carried the last of the shopping bags into her room and dropped them onto her bed with a sigh. School started back on Monday and Karen had taken the Friday before off from work and dragged Sarah out on an all-day shopping extravaganza. Karen had warmed up to her considerably in the three months since her return from the Labyrinth and as much as Sara hadn’t wanted to spend her entire day shopping, she wasn’t about to throw away her stepmother’s newfound favor. At least she had all the supplies she would need for her classes. She was determined to keep her grades high. It was a necessary part of her new identity as ‘serious, grown-up Sarah’ and that was a part she intended to keep. After all, ‘serious, grown-up Sarah’ was given far more leeway than her predecessor. School had always been easy for her when she bothered to pay attention so it shouldn’t take all that much effort. Her grades were already good, but she would see to it that they became perfect. Her parents had no idea how little time Sarah had actually spent studying previously, so this would give her an excuse to continue spending time on her research. It should also provide her with a plausible explanation for her stunning lack of a social life.

            Sarah now owned an entire wardrobe designed to fit her new role which she was certain could only help her. Every actress knew that costuming could make all the difference in believability. Her father had questioned the need for a full new wardrobe, but Karen had been insistent. Sarah had overheard their whispered conversation from the hallway. “She’s going to be a junior this year, Robert. She’ll be sixteen soon. It’s time that she dressed like a young lady and not a little girl. Sarah is finally growing up and thinking about her future. I honestly wasn’t sure that was ever going to happen. We’re even starting to have an actual relationship! You best believe that I’m going to do everything I can to encourage her.” Her father had buckled without further argument. He’d never been able to refuse Karen anything and now Karen was fighting on Sarah’s behalf instead of against her. It was a nice change. Sarah had also managed to get more supplies for her research. It wasn’t as though Karen had a clue how many binders she needed for school. Overall, the day had been productive.

            Sarah had already cleared many of the more childish items from her closet the week prior and had traded them in at Encore for store credit. The second hand store was oddly eclectic. They were bound to have something she wanted eventually. She began putting her new things away. Karen had cheerfully waved off her offers to help with dinner and told her to focus on getting everything ready for school. Sarah put her new cosmetics in the vanity drawer she’d cleaned out for them before turning to the more extensive task of hanging up clothes. The meal would likely be ready by the time she was done.

            After dinner, Sarah returned to her research. The library books currently in her possession had been referenced as sources by some of the more helpful books she’d already finished. It had taken weeks for them to arrive from the inter-library loan program as apparently her local library had little demand for dense scholarly works on Irish folklore and legend. They were the primary source of her hesitance to spend the day shopping. She had been so excited to see what she could learn from them. As it turned out, they contained a rather thorough list of things she should be extremely worried about.

            One of the books described beings known as the Sidhe in lavish detail. They were apparently the rulers of the Fae and the greatest of them were said to possess god-like powers. They followed an elaborate system of rules and traditions and were greatly angered when those rules were violated. The words had shimmered, so she didn’t doubt them. She suspected that the Goblin King was one of them and if that was the case, she had no doubt caused him grievous offense. The Sidhe were not known to be forgiving. This could prove to be problematic. And she hadn’t the faintest idea how to fix it. She had spent the better part of three months avoiding thoughts of the Goblin King. Despite her focus on the Fae in general and the Labyrinth itself, she had not wanted to think about the monarch she’d defied.

            _Perhaps I’m mistaken_. _He’s the Goblin King. Wouldn’t that make him some sort of goblin?_ She looked at the numbered list she’d noted down while reading about the traits of the Sidhe. **1\. Staggering magical power.** That was a yes. As far as Sarah could tell, he could control time and space. **2\. Supernatural beauty.** Sarah instantly pictured him in her mind and pushed down the immediate pulse of longing that filled her chest. She checked a second requirement off of the list. **3\. Inhuman grace.** She remembered the elegance of his every movement and the crystals dancing across his fingers. **4\. Hypnotic voice.** She refused to think about his singing as she checked it off. **5\. Natural aura of charisma or majesty.** There was no doubt about that one. It could be felt across the room. **6\. Prideful nature.** Definitely yes. Tweaking his pride had gotten her into all kinds of trouble. **7\. Vindictive.** She remembered the time he stole after she foolishly insulted his challenge so that was a yes. **8\. Manipulative.** He’d used enchanted peaches and honeyed words as weapons as surely as he’d used intimidation and hazards. He was manipulative as all hell.     

            Sarah stared at the completed list and sighed. He filled every requirement. She couldn’t deny the obvious. She just wasn’t that good at lying to herself anymore. The author had noted that the Sidhe traits were exaggerated in more powerful individuals. _Like a monarch_ , she thought. This was… bad. She stood from her desk and paced around her room while she considered the problem. Perhaps if she just wanted to return to the Underground it wouldn’t be such an issue. She could try to find a way to some other region. The thought was sadly unappealing. It wasn’t the Underground in general that called to her. It was the Labyrinth in specific. The only place she could ever be happy was ruled by a vengeful god-king who probably wanted her dead. _If I’m lucky. Let’s hope he’s not the ‘keep you alive so I can torture you until time ends’ sort._ She forcibly wrenched herself from her melancholy. _It doesn’t matter. I’ll just have to find a way to appease him._ She couldn’t be the only fool to ever accidentally anger a Fae. They were, after all, temperamental. Someone knew how to placate them. It was just one more step on her journey home.   

            Sarah gave up her pacing with a huff and threw herself down on her down on her bed. Her mind was restless. What was she missing? She had no idea how many challengers ran the Labyrinth. It could be a constant thing. Maybe she had been expected to behave exactly as she had. Just because her trip to the Labyrinth was a profound experience for her, it didn’t mean that it had been anything special in his eyes. _For all I know, I was the twentieth petulant brat named Sarah that went through this year. He might not even remember me_. That possibility should have been comforting. It was not. The idea that he might have forgotten her entirely brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back angrily. She was being a fool and hated herself for it. She knew from her research that Fae often used seduction as a form of manipulation. It meant nothing to them. It was just a means to an ends. The Goblin King had offered her an illusion in exchange for her surrender. She could have had an eternal dream of a little girl’s fairy tale ending complete with an image of him cast as the handsome prince. She just had to give him Toby in exchange.

            There was no telling how many stupid girls were lost in dreams just like the one she’d been offered. She imagined them suspended in crystals and lined like trophies along a shelf. It wasn’t a good image. _What happens to them?_ She wondered. _What would have happened to me if I’d given in?_ Did their bodies remain in the mortal world while their minds were lost? Were they trapped in comas or similar states? Did they go mad—living in the mortal world, but unable to perceive it? Or were they just trapped in the Underground while locked in their fantasies? She raked her hands down her face and groaned. This was getting her nowhere. She needed air. A walk would do her good.

            In one motion, Sarah rolled herself off of her bed and onto her feet. She looked up and was face to face with three goblins. They were perched at eye level on the top shelf of her new bookcase. There was no chance she could look away in time. The one in the middle was staring directly into her eyes. It was larger than the others and jet black as opposed to their grey. Sarah bit back a scream. She didn’t want Karen or father to run in and watch as their daughter was torn apart. What if they saw the goblins and became targets? They wouldn’t know not to look. She couldn’t save herself, but she refused to damn them as well.

            Sarah wasn’t even sure how she knew they were goblins. They looked nothing like the ones she’d seen before. These goblins resembled gargoyles as much as anything. They were the size of housecats and they sat a bit like cats as well: hind talons and fore claws gripping the edge of the shelf, long tails trailing down beside them. Of course, cats didn’t have wings. The eyes that held hers glowed like ruby embers. These goblins were utterly deadly. She was certain of it. Menace hung in the air around them. She looked at them and she knew what it meant to be hunted. She knew what it meant to be prey. The black goblin flashed a vicious smile, revealing razor-edged teeth. “Greetings, Champion,” he whispered. His voice was gravely and deep, but those terms failed to capture it. It was ominous and echoing like something from her darkest nightmares. It was the sort of voice she might have expected Death to have.

            Sarah hadn’t realized that she’d stepped back until she felt her calves hit the bedframe. The black goblin tilted his head to the side and waited. Apparently he expected an actual reply. She barely managed to squeak out a “hello” without shrieking. It would have to be good enough. He arched one ridged brow and asked, “For what reason do you believe we have come?”

            Her throat was painfully dry as she swallowed. “Um…I assume you’re here to kill me.”

            The black goblin gave her a half-smile. “A reasonable assumption I suppose, but inaccurate in this case. We were sent.”

            “By whom? Was it the Goblin King? Did he send you?” Curiosity lent her voice power. Her father always said it would be the death of her. 

            The black goblin’s laugh was like claws scraping stone. “No, Champion. His Majesty has no idea we are even here. He cannot see you, you know. You robbed him of that power. I imagine he is most displeased, but no matter. The Labyrinth sent us.”

            Questions flickered through her mind, too many questions. Finally, she asked, “Why?”

            “Because you inexplicably defeated the challenge of the Labyrinth and earned yourself the title Champion. You hold rank in the Underground now and the power that accompanies that rank. Many Fae have coveted that title, but none of them have won it. There has never before been a mortal who held true noble rank in the Underground and assumed the risks inherent in possessing such a rank. Even so, a mortal might stand a chance if they were a skilled enough mage. But you, you have no training and no means by which to defend yourself when they come.” His burning eyes studied her as he spoke.

            Sarah let out a breath. “When who comes?”

            The black goblin stared at her. She had yet to see him blink. “The ones who want to take that which is yours. They cannot take the title, of course. Not without defeating the Labyrinth’s challenge. But, they can take the power you have been granted if you are not strong enough to stop them. They can slice you open and rip the magic from your flesh.” His eyes flicked down her form and back to her face. “You would not survive the experience. Lucky for you, the ancient laws grant the Champion three guardians. The strength of the guardians chosen matters not. Only the number is decreed. The Labyrinth must want you to live.”

            Sarah realized she was trembling. She fought to keep her voice steady. “What makes you think that?”

            He smiled. “She sent us.”

            He obviously believed that three housecat-sized goblins were a match for whatever terrors the other Fae might send after Sarah. She would have called it arrogance if she didn’t suspect he was correct. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Okay. But if I’m in so much danger that I need protection, why are you only now arriving?”

            He shrugged. “It would have pointless for anyone to kill you before. The magic started trickling into you the moment you returned, but it does not truly belong to you. Not yet. These things take time. Now, the process is nearly complete. When midnight comes, you will ascend to your title and the last of the power will be released to you. An attack could come at any point after that, assuming you survive the final transition.” His expression was contemplative. “I doubt that they will come immediately as most Fae would assume that the ascension would kill a mortal. Regardless, the Labyrinth seemed quite certain you would survive so that is what I expect. It is better to be prepared. We should perform the binding now. If you die, it will not be because I was remiss in my duties.”

            Sarah refused to focus on her possible death as she couldn’t do a damn thing to prevent it. She nodded at the goblin. “What is this binding and how do we do it?”   

            “It is a blood binding. The magic is ancient and inescapable. I would not ordinarily agree to such a thing, but we all do as we must. I am a goblin and like all goblins I owe fealty to the Goblin King. Any oath I swore to you would come second to the service I rightfully owe to him. If he ordered your death, I would be obligated to obey even if I had sworn to protect you. Only a blood binding can overcome that limitation. My brothers and I will perform the spell. I just need you to give me your hand and hold still until it is done.”

            Sarah felt numb. She raised her right hand and offered it to the black goblin who stared at it with irritation. “Do I look like a servant of the light to you, Champion? Your left hand.”

            She switched hands with a mumbled apology. The goblin flexed one claw and a flickering blade appeared hovering above it. It didn’t seem fully real, as though it was crafted from shadows. He took the blade and began to chant in a whispering, sibilant language she couldn’t recognize. She managed not to flinch as he made a cut in the center of her wrist, just above her palm. She watched with fascination as her blood welled to the surface. The flickering knife vanished. The goblin sliced his left palm with a claw and pressed it to her wound. At his final word, she felt a flash of heat from her wrist. He pulled back his hand and examined the mark left behind. The wound on her wrist was gone. In its place was a stylized metallic black starburst. He nodded in satisfaction. “It is done.” He motioned to one of his brothers and Sarah stood in silence as the ritual was performed twice more.

            In the end, the black starburst in the center of her wrist was flanked by two smaller, silvery copies. It was an oddly compelling design. “I’ll have to figure out some way to keep this covered,” she commented. “My parents would not be happy if they thought I’d gotten a tattoo. Admittedly tattoos aren’t metallic. It would be difficult to explain that.”

            Unconcerned, Marvok glanced at her wrist. _The black goblin’s name is Marvok,_ she realized. _How do I know that?_ “It is not necessary,” he said. “Unless they have the Sight, mortals cannot see it.”

            She nodded to him. “Good to know.”

            He pointedly glanced at her clock. 11:57 p.m. “It is almost time. I warded your room when we first arrived. No sound will escape. You might want to lay down now. It would be rather undignified to collapse and give yourself a concussion in the middle of your ascension.”

            Sarah did as he instructed. She laid on her bed staring at the ceiling and trying not to be unnerved by the creatures clustered around her. _They’re not going to attack me,_ she told herself. _They’re my goblins_. It was a strange thought. She looked at them one by one. _Marvok. Azu. Nessos._ She heard the hall clock strike midnight. Then, there was pain. She screamed as it burned through her, back arching as she clawed at her bedding. The goblins pinned her down. The last thing she saw before the darkness claimed her was Marvok’s ruby gaze.    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.   
>  Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	3. The Truth of Oneself

            The knock on Sarah’s door pulled her from sleep. “Sarah! Breakfast is almost ready,” Karen called.

            Sarah stared at the door blearily. “Thanks. I’ll be right down,” she called back. She rubbed her eyes while listening to the sound of Karen’s retreating footsteps. _What a strange dream…_ Her eyes landed on a charcoal-colored form curled up beside her feet. _Not a dream then._ She wasn’t sure if she should be terrified or relieved. The goblin looked up at her with glowing amber eyes. “Good morning, Azu,” she whispered.

            Azu tilted his head and studied her for a moment before responding. “Good morning, Champion.” His voice was gravely and deep, but lacked the nightmarish quality Marvok’s voice possessed. She was grateful for that. She glanced around her room and located the others. Nessos was perched on top of her vanity mirror, more gargoyle-like than ever. Marvok was curled up in her desk chair, eyes closed.

            Sarah stood and stretched. She was still dressed in the clothes she’d worn yesterday. Karen would definitely notice if she went down for breakfast in them. She’d have to change. She pulled pajama pants and a tank top out of her dresser. _It’s best if I look like I went to bed properly,_ she thought. She went to change her top and froze. She wasn’t alone after all. Should she change in the bathroom? What if Karen or her dad saw her? She noticed Marvok staring at her with amusement. He chuckled. “Your virtue is quite safe, Champion. We are your bodyguards. Noble women are never unaccompanied in the Underground.”

            “We’re not in the Underground!” she snapped. “I’m not some fairy princess and I’m sure as hell not accustomed to people watching me change!” 

            “Adapt,” he said with a shrug. “I am not leaving you open to attack to preserve your quaint mortal sense of propriety.”

            Sarah sighed. She suspected that arguing with him over this pointless. Besides, it wasn’t like the three goblins had anything resembling clothing on. Or any bits that seemed to need to be hidden by clothing for that matter. _Maybe they’re like reptiles and everything is on the inside?_ _No. Don’t even go there._ She did not want to follow that thought train. Ever. _They aren’t even vaguely human in design. It’s like changing in front of Merlin. My dog doesn’t care what I look like naked and neither will they._ With that firmly in mind, she changed into her pajamas as quickly as possible.

            Once she’d changed, it occurred to her that she’d practically screamed at Marvok. It was a miracle that neither of her parents had heard. She remembered he’d mentioned something about wards to block sound. “Can my family hear me talking to you from outside of this room?” she whispered.

            Marvok shook his head. “No. They can only hear you if you are specifically directing what you say at them. I thought it best to maintain some privacy. It would be inconvenient if they overheard you and decided you had lost your mind.”

            Sarah considered this. “So they can only hear me if I’m talking to them? Otherwise they hear nothing?”

            “Not exactly.” He paused for a moment before continuing, his face thoughtful. “A silence effect would be a poor long-term solution. If they never heard any sound from your room, that would seem strange to them. It would inevitably draw their curiosity. Mortals are never truly silent. Rather, the spell causes them to hear sounds that they expect and that seem normal to them. They will only hear what you say if it is directed at them or if you consciously want them to hear it.”

            _Well, that’s impressive,_ Sarah thought. He had clearly spent some time thinking about this. “That’s really helpful. Thank you. That seems like it would be pretty complicated magic though. How long will it last?”

            Marvok blinked at her thanks. He seemed startled by it. “You are welcome, Champion. It is permanent unless I dispel the effect. As for complexity, I suppose it would be for most. All forms of concealment magic come quite naturally for shadow goblins.”

            _Shadow goblins,_ she thought. _That’s what they are. Good to know._ “Well, it’s certainly useful. It will give me a place where I can speak to you freely. Too bad I won’t be able to do that most of the time. I’m assuming that people won’t be able to see you?”

            “Like all Fae, we are unseen and unheard by most mortals. Those with the Sight will be able to see us, as will some mortal magic users, but they will know better than to make an issue of it.” Marvok said. He looked up directly into her eyes and she heard his voice echoing through her mind, _“As for communicating with us, you can do that without speaking aloud.”_       

            Sarah gasped. _Holy shit. They’re telepathic_. A horrible thought occurred to her. “Wait. Do you hear everything I’m thinking?”

            Marvok smirked at her and shook his head. “Thankfully, no. We get basic emotional readings off of you and we hear thoughts that are very…loud. Basically, if you are screaming inside of your own mind we will hear it. However, you can learn to project specific thoughts to us. It will likely take considerable practice before it will seem natural to you.”

            That was a relief to her. At least, they weren’t hearing everything that went through her mind. That would have been awkward. She would have to work on this whole thought projection thing. “Okay then. We can work on that after breakfast. I don’t want Karen to send in a rescue party.”

            Marvok chuckled. “We will be accompanying you, of course. Do try not to panic.” Before Sarah could ask what he meant, he seemed to melt into the shadow cast by the back of the chair. A second later, a slight weight settled onto her left shoulder. She turned and looked at him. He was less than half the size he had been. His tail wrapped loosely around her throat.

            “You can shrink yourself. And…” Sarah gestured vaguely at the chair, “do whatever the hell that was.”

            “We can change our size to whatever is convenient for the situation. We can travel through shadows and merge with them. In a very real way we _are_ shadows.”

            Sarah nodded. “Shadow goblins. Right. The name makes sense now.” Sarah sighed and headed down for breakfast.

            Karen had cooked an extravagant meal: scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and her amazing blueberry muffins with whipped honey butter. Sarah’s stepmother had always been an amazing cook, but Sarah knew that this was for her. She adored Karen’s homemade blueberry muffins. Sarah gushed about how delicious everything was and Karen beamed at the praise.

            Months of practice not acknowledging various Fae creatures made ignoring the goblins perched on the dining table easy. Marvok proved to be more of a challenge. She wasn’t used to having a shoulder-goblin. About halfway through the meal, Sarah noticed Karen looking at her with concern. “Are you getting a sore throat, sweetie?”

            Sarah blinked at her stepmother in confusion. “No. Why do ask?”

            “You keep rubbing your neck. I thought your throat might be bothering you.” Karen motioned to her own neck.

            “Oh. It was just a tickle. I don’t think I’m getting sick or anything.” Sarah changed the topic as quickly as she could. She kept the hand that wasn’t on her fork gripped tight against her leg. It was difficult to remember not to reach up and brush the tail around her throat. _If this is going to be a regular thing,_ _I should start wearing chokers,_ she thought. _It’d give me an excuse to touch my neck without drawing extra attention._

            Thankfully, Karen’s lingering concern made it that much easier when Sarah turned down her parents’ offer to go to the movies with them and Toby. “Normally, I’d love to go,” she told them. “I just really want some time to kick back and relax before its back to the grindstone.”  

            Karen told her that it was fine before her dad could say anything. “Of course, sweetie. It’s normal to be a bit stressed out before you go back to school. You get some rest.”

            Sarah wished them a good day as they headed out before heading back to her room. The goblins refused her offers to get food for them, so she figured that she might as well get to work. She wanted to get the basics of this silent communication thing down before school started. It would be way easier if she could talk to them when she needed to.

            Sadly, Sarah’s first attempt at telepathic communication was an abject failure. Azu and Nessos actually shrieked. That was a sound she never wanted to hear again. Marvok winced and glared at her with annoyance. “It is unfortunate that you cannot do that to your enemies,” he hissed. “It would be a most effective weapon.”

            “Shit. I’m so sorry. So sorry. I know I did that wrong. I…”

            Marvok cut her off with a sharp gesture. He took a deep breath while rubbing his temples with tiny, clawed hands. After a moment, he looked wearily back up at her. “The blame is not yours alone, Champion. I have had limited experience dealing with mortals. Even as children, Fae have far greater control. Of course, they have the benefit of receiving magical training from the cradle. The ascension has granted you enough power that I forget that you have no such experience. Let us try something different.”

            Marvok motioned for Sarah to sit and she did. She really didn’t want to do that to them again. He perched on her desk, his ruby eyes studying her. Finally, he told her to close her eyes. “Focus on yourself, Champion, on the core of your being. Feel your skin and how it separates you from everything around you. Know that this, alone, is you.”

            The liquid darkness of his voice lulled her into a trance state. She felt the borders of herself. Felt her separation from the world. It was a new awareness, but hauntingly familiar. “Good,” the darkness whispered. “You have found your physical form and defined it. Now, look inside. See the fire burning within you, the heart of your power. Feel it pouring though you. Feel it filling you like an empty glass. Your skin, your flesh, is a container for that burning. Know that this is you. Your power. Your fire.”

            Sarah _could_ feel it. Flames writhing just under her skin, swirling at the tips of her fingers and toes, crawling up the line of her back and dancing across her scalp. She _was_ the fire. In her mind’s eye she was a feminine silhouette crafted from iridescent ebony flames. Colors flickered through her darkness like jewels scattered across black velvet. A shimmer of violet. A hint of emerald. A whisper of azure. Her skin was just a mask; this is what she was. “I am dark fire,” she whispered.

            “Yes,” the shadows agreed. “You have Seen the truth of yourself. Now, feel the cords emerging from that fire. Find the ties that bind us to you.”

            Sarah reached out with her senses, allowing herself to feel them. Thick cords of flame and shadow stretched out from what she now knew to be herself. She touched the strongest of them and she could feel Marvok on the other side. “This one binds us together,” she told him. She touched another. “Azu.” Her mental fingertips brushed a third. “Nessos.” She kept searching, feeling the connections. She found a fourth and fifth, different from both those that linked her to the shadow goblins and from each other. “What…”

            “Not now, Champion,” the darkness told her. “Those are for another time. Focus on the cords that bind you to us…to me.”

            Sarah felt herself nod as she turned back to the cord that anchored Marvok to her. She could feel him on the other end, waiting. She grasped the cord gently with hands of flame. He would know that she had.

            “Now form a thought that you wish for me to hear and cast it along that cord. Know that it will find its way to me.”

            _“Thank you,”_ she focused on the thought and sent it as instructed.

            “You are welcome, Champion.” Marvok said. “It will get easier with practice.”

            Sarah opened her eyes and blinked at him. If she focused, she could still see the binding between them and the ebon flames beneath her pale skin. “It should have been difficult to See that way, shouldn’t it? You helped me.”

            Marvok gave a single slow nod. “Seeing the truth of oneself is challenging even for the well-trained.” He shrugged. “Even amongst the Fae, some never master it. You are perceptive. You would have Seen in time. Sadly, time is a luxury we do not possess. If you are ever to take your rightful place as the Champion of the Labyrinth, you must survive the trials ahead. This form of Sight will help you greatly to gain control of your power. The blood binding allowed me to grant you the use of my perception. Now, you will be able to See on your own.”

            Sarah considered this. A question filled her mind. “I wasn’t always dark fire was I? I used to be bright.”

            Marvok gave her a look that was almost remorseful. “No, Champion. You were not always dark. In binding yourself to us, the shadows have become a part of you. I had warned the Labyrinth of this. Though in truth, your energy was transformed far more than I had imagined it would be. This may be a result of your mortality. Human natures are more subject to change than those of the Fae. The brilliant colors of your inner self still shine, but the base nature of your power will never again be a thing of light.”

            Sarah looked into Marvok’s glowing eyes. “Don’t. Don’t pity me. That girl wouldn’t have survived. This one will.”

            Marvok laughed, the sound managed to be both vicious and kind. “Of that, Champion, I have no doubt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.   
>  Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	4. The Unhallowed

            Sarah spent most her last weekend before school started reading through her new books and trying to master the ability to speak telepathically with her goblins. The process was getting easier, but still didn’t feel entirely natural. She quickly learned that she couldn’t just sit and practice silent communication for an extended time unless she wanted a pounding headache. Marvok hadn’t been surprised by this occurrence. “If you work muscles far harder than they are accustomed to working, the result is pain. This is much the same. You will become stronger in time.” It made sense, really, but she didn’t have to like it.

            On Sunday afternoon, Sarah decided to make a trip downtown to see if Encore had any chokers in stock. Marvok seemed determined to perch on her shoulder anytime she left her room, so it seemed like a good idea. Truthfully, she found his slight weight comforting. It reminded her that she wasn’t alone.

            Sarah headed downstairs and found Karen on the couch reading Michael Crichton’s “The Lost World” while Toby watched Barney from his walker seat. Sarah smiled to herself. _There’s irony for you._  “Hey Karen. I thought I’d head over to Encore before they close and see if I can pick up a few accessories with my store credit.”

            Karen blinked up at her. “Oh! I didn’t even think about accessories. I don’t know where my head’s been this week. Do you want a ride?”

            Sarah shook her head. “No. I feel like walking. I haven’t gotten enough fresh air lately.”

            “Okay. If you’re sure.” Karen pulled her wallet out of her purse and handed Sarah a pair of twenties. “Here. I think I saw some cute earrings in their window the other day.”

            Sarah took the cash reluctantly. “You don’t need to give me money. Like I said, I’ve got credit. I gave them all my old stuff, remember? And you’ve already spent a fortune on me this week.”

            Karen laughed and gave Sarah’s hand a squeeze. “I want to give it to you. This way you’ll have some credit left over if you’re there with Nikki after school some time. I know you girls love that place. Besides, you might want something from The Coffee Zone. You haven’t been there lately.”

            Sarah nodded. “Thanks, Karen. An iced mocha does sound amazing right now. I’ve missed The Zone, but it just isn’t the same without Nikki.” Nicole, better known as Nikki, was Sarah’s best friend and she’d spent the entire summer with her dad in Los Angeles. Sarah had missed her, but considering everything that had happened this summer, Nikki’s absence might have been a blessing. _God knows I needed some time to adapt to seeing Fae everywhere before I had to deal with Nikki and her latest conspiracy theory,_ Sarah thought _. If she’d been around during those first few weeks, I’d have probably told her that I thought all her ‘alien abductees’ were actually stolen by the Fae. That would have gone over great._

            Karen pulled Sarah from her thoughts, “She’s an odd girl, but she has a good heart. I know you’ve missed her. Is she back in town yet?”

            “Yeah. She called on Wednesday while you were at work to let me know. Her mom was taking her out shopping on Thursday and they were going to visit her grandparents over the weekend, so she didn’t really have time to meet up. I’ll see her at school tomorrow. It’ll be good to have her back.” Sarah stuck the twenties into her purse. “Okay. I’m off on a shopping adventure! Thanks again for the cash and wish me luck defeating the fashion dragon.”

            Karen laughed. “Have fun, sweetie. Call if you want a ride home.”

            Sarah’s house was in one of the historic neighborhoods only a few blocks from the downtown square. It was a beautiful day: warm, but not scorching hot, with a gentle breeze in the air. The goblins were oddly quiet. _“Everything okay?”_ she asked silently.

            Because standard mortals couldn’t hear him, Marvok normally answered her mental queries out loud. This time he didn’t. _“You need to remain calm, but you are being watched. They are not friendly.”_

            Sarah forced herself to behave normally. _“Human or Fae?”_

            _“Fae,”_ he replied. _“Their kind will not attack during daylight so you are safe for now. They do not know you are guarded. They will come for you tonight; The Unhallowed are not known for their patience.”_

            Sarah didn’t recognize the name. She was certain she’d remember reading about creatures called The Unhallowed. It was a morbid title, but definitely memorable. _“Unless they’re known by some other name as well, I haven’t heard of them. What can you tell me?”_

            _“It is unlikely that you would find a written description of them. They rarely leave the Underground and mortals who encounter them do not usually survive. They are dark Fae and they are so…”_ Marvok paused as if searching for words, _“corrupt, so twisted, that they are barely tolerated even by the Unseelie. Even the Sidhe find their appearance disturbing. Regardless, they are no match for us. They are skilled at violence, but have limited defenses. They rely on raw fear to subdue their victims and my kind are immune to such parlor tricks.”_

            Sarah considered this. Fear she could probably handle. _“What kind of fear are we talking about? You guys radiate some kind of terror aura yourselves. Is their mojo stronger than that?”_

            Marvok’s barked laugh echoed through her mind. _“No, Champion. Their ‘terror aura’ as you call it is not at the level of ours. They only have enough to supplement their unfortunate appearance.”_

            _“Okay. Scary looking fear Fae. I think I can cope with that. I’m more worried about pretty things that lull me into submission before I know I’m in danger.”_

            Sarah could feel Marvok’s approval through their bond. _“Well said, Champion. You are learning.”_ Sarah smiled and tried to shove the impending attack out of her mind. There was no point in worrying about it now.

             She made her way across the town square and walked into Encore. She loved the place. It made her think of a fantasy gypsy bazaar. The owner, Miriam, was a retired stage actress who’d moved to Saint James to be close to her grandchildren. After thirty years of musical theatre, idle retirement hadn’t suited her and she’d opened Encore when Sarah was thirteen. Sarah had no idea where Miriam acquired most of her stock. Some of the items, like Sarah’s old clothes, were purchased from people in town, but there was no way most of it was local.

            Miriam looked up and gave Sarah a smile. “Welcome, darling. You’ve got a bit over two hours before I close up shop.” Miriam was accustomed to Sarah just wandering through.

            This time, Sarah approached her. “Do you have any chokers in stock? Karen took me back to school shopping and my old accessories don’t really go with the new tops. I really need a choker.”

            Miriam gave her an indulgent smile. “Of course, darling. The right accessories make all the difference.” Miriam led Sarah to the back of the store and pointed to a three-tiered table tucked into a corner. “Right over there.”

            Sarah thanked her and went to have a look. There were dozens of different chokers laid out on the table and Sarah had no clue what she was really looking for. She scanned the options, trying to decide what would go well with her new clothes and would also withstand being constantly gripped by Marvok’s tail. Delicate, wire pieces were right out. She caught a familiar shimmer out of the corner of her eye and turned to investigate. A mother of pearl cameo was suspended in the center of three strands of faceted black beads. It was breathtakingly beautiful. She pointed a finger at it, but didn’t touch. _“Can you tell me what sort of enchantment is on that?”_

            Marvok shifted forward to examine it. _“Yes. The spellwork is exquisite. It is a focus stone—an old type of magic. They were designed to aid spellcasters in focusing their power. It can also store a significant amount of excess energy for later use.”_

            Sarah considered this. It seemed like a useful tool, but she wasn’t certain that the delicate necklace would hold up. The creator probably hadn’t considered goblin tails as likely hazards. _“Two questions. One: would it work with my magic? And two: is it as delicate as it looks? I don’t need glass shards embedded in my neck because you crushed it.”_

            Marvok chuckled. _“It would work for you and you could only benefit from having a focus stone. I can certainly train you in its use. As for any perceived fragility, appearances can be deceiving. A great deal of magical force would be required to cause any damage to such an artifact. Simple physical blows cannot harm it.”_

            Sarah nodded and picked up the choker. She felt the magic it carried brush against her like a caress as she checked the tag. It was priced at thirteen dollars. She snorted and showed Marvok the tag. _“This is from the Underground isn’t it? The price can’t be a coincidence. Thirteen is the number of the Labyrinth and hand-crafted antique jewelry costs more than that. Even in this store.”_

            _“Indeed. It is not human magic. I assume the Labyrinth sent it here for you to find.”_

            Sarah slipped the choker over her wrist with a sigh and went back to browsing. She’d told Karen that she was buying accessories, so she needed to turn back up with more than one piece. She purchased several pairs of hair sticks on a whim. None of the girls she knew wore them, but she liked the idea of wearing her hair up. It felt ladylike and elegant to her. She even bought something called a ‘French twist comb’. The top of the comb was covered in iridescent glass beads that looked beautiful against her dark hair. Miriam spent nearly twenty minutes teaching her to use it correctly. Sarah could tell that the Miriam was delighted that a teenaged girl would be interested in such a thing.

            Shortly before closing, Sarah left Encore with a purple paper bag holding several bracelets, four pairs of earrings, an assortment of hair accessories, and a long strand of faceted black beads that looked fantastic with her new choker. The focus stone itself was secure around her throat, Marvok’s tail curled just beneath it. Sarah felt her anxiety increasing as soon as she walked out of the store. Shopping had provided a welcome distraction, but now all she could think about was the battle to come.  

            Sarah busied herself after dinner with preparations for her first day back to school. Her new backpack was ready to go and already held all of her supplies. Her lunch was packed and her alarm clock was set. Her outfit and accessories for the next day were already selected and set to the side. She’d even given herself a perfect mani-pedi. Admittedly, she’d had some goblin assistance with that bit. Karen had purchased herself a bottle of Chanel’s coveted Vamp nail polish on a trip to the city and then decided that she wasn’t daring enough to wear it. Thus, Sarah inherited the bottle. Sarah decided it would be a perfect accent for her new look—edgy, but sophisticated. She’d quickly realized that dark polish was not forgiving when you kept screwing up because your hands were shaking.

            Azu and Nessos looked horrified when she started sobbing over the botched paint job and took the bottle away from her. It turned out that shadow goblins could apply nail polish perfectly. They even dried it with magic. She was so grateful that she almost started crying again. She managed to refrain from that. She hoped they’d be willing to play manicurist again if she showed proper gratitude and didn’t upset them further.    

            By sunset, Sarah was sitting at her desk and pretending to read. There was nothing else left to do. She was as ready for school as she was going to be and she didn’t know how to be ready for an attack. The best she could really do was to try and remain calm. She knew that her emotions were all over the damn place. She’d actually cried over nail polish. Embarrassing as it was, she was grateful that the goblins didn’t seem to know that her behavior was out of character for a human. Sarah could see the sky though her window. It was painted with streaks of crimson and rose-gold. It would be time soon. She had no intention of facing The Unhallowed in her home. She didn’t want to put Toby or her parents at risk. Marvok agreed that the park would be a far better location for the upcoming fight.

            Sarah let out a shaky breath. She felt like a spring that had been wound too tight. Marvok had gone to scout the park, to decide where they should enter and what path they should take. It was the first time he’d been away since the goblins arrived. She missed his weight on her shoulder. _Has it really only been a few days?_ It felt longer. Much longer. She looked down to where Azu and Nessos perched on her desk. Their presence was familiar and reassuring even though she was less comfortable with them than with their alpha. It was hardly surprising. Azu had spoken exactly three words to her in the time that she’d known him. Nessos hadn’t spoken at all. _But they helped me with a silly human thing,_ she reminded herself. _They helped when they didn’t have to._ Besides, they were here. After a moment, she asked them, “What should I do? During the fight I mean. Do you know?”

            Nessos looked up at her with bright golden eyes. “It would be best if you were to formally challenge The Unhallowed as soon as they appear.” He spoke in a rich baritone, pleasant if you ignored the growl that ran beneath the words.

            “Challenge them?” she asked. “How? Is that wise? They already want me dead.”

            Nessos tilted his head, studying her. “Fae of all kinds are functionally immortal in your world. If they are killed here, they simply re-manifest in the Underground. You know the old stories? The importance of true names?”

            She nodded. “Knowing something’s true name gives you power over it. But aren’t Fae always immortal?”

            He shook his head. “Not most of them and certainly not The Unhallowed. The Fae are unaging and they’re very difficult to kill. However, they can and do die in the Underground. If you know the true name of a Fae, you can use it to issue a challenge that will render it as mortal in this world as it would be in the Underground during the course of the challenge. That’s why most Fae hide their true names and mortal summoners seek to know them.”

            That made sense, but she couldn’t use a weapon that she didn’t have. “Okay. I’m willing to do whatever it takes. The only problem is that I don’t know their true names.”

            Nessos flashed a cruel smile. “You don’t need to. You have what no other mortal has ever possessed—full title in the Underground. Nobles have always taken duels and challenges seriously. You can challenge them using your own true name and full title. If you do, it is every bit as binding as if you knew their true names. Of course, the magic will affect you as well, but that’s hardly a downside.”

            Sarah smiled. “It’s not a downside, because I’m already mortal. So I’m not risking anything extra by making the challenge.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “But what about the three of you? If I issue a challenge, won’t it put you at risk?”

            Nessos laughed. “It will render us exactly as mortal as we are in the Underground.”

            Sarah considered everything he had said during their conversation. Finally, she asked, “How mortal is that?”

            Nessos shrugged, “Your concern is touching, but there is no cause for it. We are…unique in many ways.”

            She wanted to ask more questions about them, but she didn’t think he’d answer. She sighed. “I’ll take you at your word. What do I say to issue the challenge?”

            Before Nessos could answer, she felt a familiar weight settle onto her shoulder. A voice like liquid darkness spoke, “You say: By right of conquest, I am Lady Sarah the Defiant, Champion of the Labyrinth, and I hereby issue challenge. The exact wording is important. Repeat the words to me, leaving out only the word ‘challenge’.”        

            It took half a dozen repetitions before Marvok was satisfied. After the sixth, he said, “Good. You will do well. The Unhallowed remain blind to the shadows. They believe you to be alone. As soon as you actually see one of them, issue your challenge. From that point, we will deal with them. The sun will be below the horizon soon. We should go now.”

            Sarah felt numb as she made her way downstairs. She heard herself telling Karen that she felt restless and was going for a short walk, heard Karen telling her to be careful and that back-to-school jitters were normal. She walked to the park in a daze, repeating the words of challenge to herself over and over in her mind. She could not afford to forget her lines. Not this time. So she focused on her words and followed Marvok’s directions without thought.

            It was dark by the time Marvok told her they’d reached their destination. “Remember that we are with you, Champion. Stand your ground.” With those words he vanished. Sarah stood alone in a roughly circular clearing. Trees surrounded her on all sides. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She didn’t have to wait long. Sarah heard a mocking laugh behind her. Flashes of movement flickered through the underbrush. Hideous voices whispered all around her.

            “Tasty morsel. Just a child. Too weak to hold so much power. Take her to the master. Master will be pleased. Magic for the master, but the flesh will be ours. Drink her blood, eat our fill. Tasty mortal.” Sarah couldn’t tell how many of them spoke, but she knew that they had her surrounded. She could feel the fear that they emanated pushing against her like a tangible thing.

            _They mean to soften up their prey,_ she realized. Sarah smiled. For days, she’d spent every moment asleep or awake in the presence of shadow goblins. The fear these things projected was a child’s toy compared to the menace that poured off of Marvok. Their threatening whispers couldn’t touch the nightmare that was his voice. She found that she was unafraid. Sarah squared her shoulders and held her head high as she awaited the approach of her enemies.

            Sarah watched as the first of The Unhallowed entered the clearing. Its appearance was indeed disturbing, but she found that she was revolted rather than afraid. It was shaped like a skeletally thin child. Its smile was far too wide for its warped child’s face and revealed sharp, broken teeth. Black pits sat where its eyes should have been. She stared at it in revulsion. Her voice was strong as she spoke, “By right of conquest, I am Lady Sarah the Defiant, Champion of the Labyrinth, and I hereby issue challenge.”

            The thing laughed. “You? A mortal thinks to challenge us? We are fear. We are death. We are…”

            Sarah cut off its words with a snarl, “You are nothing. You are no one. And to nothing you will return.” She felt the power echoing through her words.

            The thing’s face contorted in rage. Its whole body tensed with fury. Before it could move, shadows billowed up like smoke from the ground at Sarah’s feet. The shadows sharpened and coalesced into a crouched, humanoid figure with arms outstretched. Wicked curved blades of utter darkness appeared in his waiting hands. The figure stood to tower above her as she took in his appearance: leanly muscled, ebon skinned, clothed in jagged shadows. He’d manifested with his back to her and she couldn’t see his face, but she knew his eyes were red and burned like embers.  

            The things circling her shrieked. They screamed for their brethren to run. They hissed words that meant little to her. “Nightmare Walker! Dark Blade! Shadow Stalker!” One word repeated, a word she knew the meaning of. “Assassin!” they hissed. “Assassin!” 

            The ebon figure moved faster than her eyes could follow. There was a blur of motion and the lead Unhallowed fell. Time held no meaning as the storm raged around her. She was the eye of the maelstrom. She saw little, only flashes of movement. But the sounds… The sounds were everywhere. Wails filled the air around her, screams that cut off abruptly, the wet sound of flesh rending. Sarah turned back and forth, trying to follow what was happening, but the attempt was futile. A flicker from the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned just as a snarling Unhallowed darted from the underbrush and charged her with claws extended. Hands grabbed her and she was spun. She stared up at a charcoal-toned visage: high cheekbones, sharp features, glowing amber eyes. Tiny braids the color of gunmetal feel around the angles of his face. He grinned as the Unhallowed’s claws ripped into his back. Sarah could feel the impact of the blows shudder down his arms. He turned to face his attacker. Sarah stumbled forward when he released her. She braced herself against him, palms flat against his back. His wounds were horrific, ugly and deep, black blood ran in rivulets over her fingers. She gasped. _This is my fault,_ she thought. _Azu is bleeding because of me._

            Movement near her feet drew her attention. Black pits where eyes should have been stared up at her. Sarah felt the bile rising in her throat and turned away from the severed head. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t. She refused to feel pity for the things that had come to kill her, for the things that hurt Azu. She looked up and saw whole, charcoal skin. The wounds were gone. There was no blood on her hands. Sarah staggered backwards, slipped, started to fall. Strong hands caught her and held her firm. She closed her eyes tight and bit back her tears. She could hear nothing except for her own panicked breaths.

            When Sarah opened her eyes, Azu was watching her from few feet away. His head was tilted and a few braids had fallen over one eye. “It’s over,” he said. “Marvok is hunting down the few who managed to flee. They won’t make it back to their master.”

            She managed to nod. Nessos stood at her back, holding her steady. “You were hurt,” she said to Azu. Her voice shook. “Your back…Your blood was on my fingers.” She held up her trembling hands as though the blood would reappear.

            Azu brushed the errant braids back from his face. He arched one brow at her, his expression amused. “As my brother told you earlier, there is no cause for concern. We heal rapidly. An Unhallowed is not a threat to one of us. They rarely even manage to land a strike. It could have hurt you, however, so I took the blow in your stead.”

            Sarah stared at her hands. “But your blood…”

             “Was absorbed by your skin.” Azu sighed as though reluctant to continue. “It’s supposed to be. Shadow goblin blood is a powerful contact poison. It’s why The Unhallowed tried to run. They fight with claws and teeth and wear no armor. The one who clawed me was already dying from the poison when I ended its life. It won’t harm you, of course. The blood binding saw to that. Our blood is in your veins already.”

            Sarah nodded mutely and lowered her hands. She’d never felt so helpless before. Not even through the worst of the Labyrinth. The Unhallowed attacked and her goblins protected her. She’d stood by and watched like one of the useless, decorative princesses she’d raged against all her life. She’d hated those pathetic, sniveling girls and now she was one of them. The Champion of the Labyrinth was nothing more than a delicate, porcelain doll. She was the heroine no longer, but just a fragile thing to be defended. Sarah clenched her hands into fists then threw back her head and screamed.

            Sarah felt herself being lifted up. She buried her face into Nessos’s shoulder, into silken hair the color of ashes. She couldn’t stop shaking, but she refused to cry. Later, she would realize that she didn’t know how they got her back to her room without encountering anyone. She’d even heard her voice wishing Karen a good night through the door. Sarah knew that she hadn’t been the one who’d spoken. Nessos laid her gently on her bed. She didn’t respond. Her mind was locked in a spiral of self-hatred. _I’m weak. I’m useless in a fight. For all of my theoretical power, I have no magical abilities. I’m not equipped to survive in the Underground. Hell, I’m not even equipped to survive here. I’m not strong enough to defeat most human attackers, let alone a Fae. My challenge left the goblins vulnerable and Azu bled because of me. I don’t deserve protection. I don’t…_

            “Stop. That.” Marvok’s darkling voice cut through her thoughts like a red-hot blade.

            Sarah’s eyes snapped open. Marvok stood at the foot of her bed between Nessos and Azu. Anger danced in his ruby gaze. The others looked away from her. “Marvok, I was…”

            His eyes narrowed, “You were torturing my seconds while I ran down the last of The Unhallowed.”

            “Torturing?” Sarah sat up and looked at Azu and then at Nessos. They both looked shaken. “I didn’t mean to. What did I do to them? Is this because I wasn’t talking?”  

            Marvok sighed. He ran a hand though the wild ebon locks that framed his face. “This has been explained. We feel your emotions. We hear your thoughts if they are loud enough. Remember?”

            Sarah’s stomach dropped. “Oh God. They were feeling what I was. I didn’t realize…” She pulled her knees up to her chin. “I should have. I’m so sorry.”

            Marvok sat in her desk chair and leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers steepled before his lips as he studied her. “Tonight’s battle was a victory. None of those who attacked tonight will trouble us again. No survivors will return to give warning. You played your part well during the battle itself. Why are you falling apart now?”

            Sarah shook her head in denial. “I didn’t do anything at all during the battle! Nothing! I couldn’t even tell what was happening. That’s the problem. I’m useless.” Her voice trailed off, she refused to drag them back into her self-pity. Finally, she said, “I don’t want to be useless.”

            Marvok examined her curiously. “You followed all of our instructions. You issued the challenge properly and held your ground. Many would have broken and tried to run. If you had, it would have made defending you far more difficult for us and some of The Unhallowed might have escaped as a result. As I said before, you played your part well. Your thoughts are jumbled and difficult to follow. There is too much emotion for me to read you clearly. What is it that you want?”

            Sarah looked him in the eyes. “I want to not be a helpless little girl. I want to be able to defend myself.”  

            Marvok cocked his head to the side. “You want to learn to fight?”

            Sarah nodded. “Yes.”

            Marvok relaxed and gave her a pleased smile. “That, we can do. We will begin your training tomorrow. Be warned, I will not be gentle. If you truly want to learn, you will learn properly.”

            Surprise flooded through Sarah’s mind. “You’ll really train me? You’ll teach me to fight?”

            Marvok’s smile didn’t waiver. “Indeed. You do not want to be prey, so I will teach you to be a predator. It will take time, but you will learn. This I promise you, Sarah. For now, you need rest. Tomorrow will arrive on schedule whether you will it or no.”

            He’d never addressed her by name before. That seemed important, but Sarah wasn’t sure how, so she decided to worry about it later. What mattered is that he’d agreed to teach her. She might be a helpless little girl right now, but she didn’t have to stay one. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll get ready for bed.”

            Sarah stood up and froze. Her room was very crowded. It occurred to her that having three housecat-sized gargoyles in her room was very different from having three six-foot-something warriors in the same space. Either Marvok heard her thought, or it showed on her face, because he chuckled and the figures melted into the shadows. A moment later two goblins sat on her desk wearing the shape she was accustomed to. Marvok once again perched on her shoulder.

            Sarah looked at Azu and Nessos, “I apologize for my…episode. I’ll try not to do that again.” They just nodded wearily in response.

            Sarah walked downstairs and boiled water for a cup of hot chamomile tea. She would need something soothing if she was going to get any sleep. Her stomach grumbled and she glanced around for a snack, but nothing in the kitchen looked appetizing. She gave up her search with a sigh and went to wash her face and change into her pajamas while her tea steeped. She tried to not think about the fact that her goblins were apparently shapeshifters and had been person-shaped a few minutes before.

            Sarah found herself getting drowsy as she drank her tea and ate the pear that Azu had given her. The pear was perfectly ripe and delicious. She must have overlooked the pears when she’d been in the kitchen. Sarah barely managed to get under the covers before she was asleep.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is admittedly a much longer chapter than the first three. I suspect that future chapters will vary in length depending on the scenes included.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.   
> Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	5. Back to the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NOTE ON NAMES: After a number of questions on another site regarding snake goblin naming conventions and pronunciations, I decided to add this explanation. The apostrophe in snake goblin names indicates a distinct pause. Their given names are normally two or three syllables and always contain this feature. Bree’Onne is pronounced: Bree (the ‘E’ sound is long) Own. The two parts are pronounced separately. Maav’Ra is pronounced: Mauve (as in the color) Ra (like the Egyptian god). Snake goblins do not use separate methods for forming masculine and feminine names. They also avoid including sibilants in their names. Thanks for reading!

            The Questing Room was located in the depths of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. It was, in many ways, the heart of the Castle and it had been there at least as long as the Castle itself. Some of the oldest Lorekeepers insisted that the room existed long before there even was a Castle, but no one knew for certain. The room never really changed. The Labyrinth altered constantly and even the Castle shifted from time to time, but in a place of continuous transformation, the Questing Room was constant.

            The Great Mirror hung in the center of the room’s front wall. Lessor mirrors flanked it and covered the walls on either side of the room. When a questor of any sort was present, be they a Challenger or merely a runner, the mirrors would display their progress through the Labyrinth. The back wall was dominated by a massive portrait of the Goblin King as a youth. Of course, it wasn’t truly the King portrayed in the image. As the shining plaque beneath it proclaimed, it properly depicted “His Royal Highness, Prince Jareth the Clever, Champion of the Labyrinth.” The young Prince Jareth had challenged the Labyrinth on the very day the ancient laws named him an adult. Against all odds, he succeeded. As the Labyrinth’s first and only Champion, She made him King.            

            Prince Bree’Onne had only been Royal Seneschal to the Goblin King for a bit over two centuries and Labyrinth quests were still intriguing to him. Whether the quest involved a simple mortal runner or a true Challenger, he watched the events unfold every time he had the opportunity. The King always granted him leave to watch the infrequent Challengers, but mortal runners were far more common and Bree’Onne had only had the chance to witness a few dozen of them.

            On that day, His Majesty had little need of his Seneschal and permitted Bree’Onne to retire to the Questing Room and watch the latest runner. This one was a girl on the cusp of womanhood, a pretty enough thing for a mortal. It was a common age for a wisher, but this case was unusual. Normally, if a girl that age wished away an infant, she was the unwanted babe’s unfortunate mother; a girl who, still being a child herself, was not up to the task of raising one. This girl was not the child’s mother, but rather a maiden sister. _Her connection to the realm of dreams must be strong indeed for the words to have come to her,_ Bree’Onne thought. 

            From the beginning, it was clear that the girl was different from the other runners Bree’Onne had seen. She recognized the Goblin King immediately. She didn’t insist that he couldn’t be real or deny what was happening. More importantly, she lacked the proper fear a mortal should display when faced with His Majesty. Certainly, there was a hint of fear in her eyes, but not nearly enough and what fear there was, was overshadowed by sorrow and even traces of defiance. She begged Jareth to return the child, but on his refusal, she agreed to run the Labyrinth to retrieve her brother without hesitation.

            _This will be an interesting run,_ Bree’Onne decided. For once, he didn’t expect the runner to give up. The baby would have to be returned when the time ran out regardless. The girl was neither the boy’s mother, nor his primary caregiver. She was not the one actually responsible for the child, and so, she lacked the power to give the child to the Fae in a permanent sense. Her run would only decide her own fate. Would she show strength and earn a boon from the Labyrinth? Or would she fail and pay the price for her weakness? It should be fascinating to watch in either case. 

            The King finished the ritual words that began the girl’s quest and vanished from sight. His part was done; the girl was just a runner, after all. She turned towards the Labyrinth, examining the stone walls. “The Labyrinth,” she said. “It doesn’t look that hard.”

            Bree’Onne’s eyes widened. He heard the Lorekeepers’ surprised murmurs around him. _Was that a challenge?_ he wondered. _She addressed the Labyrinth personally, just as ritual required. Would the Labyrinth consider this mortal child as an actual Challenger?_ He spun towards the crystal orbs flanking the entryway. The orbs were filled with green light indicating that a runner was present. As Bree’Onne watched, they pulsed and the light turned violet. The Challenge had been accepted.

            His Majesty appeared in the Questing Room without warning. “What’s happening?” he demanded. “I felt a Challenger enter the Labyrinth, but a run is already underway.” 

            Master Lorekeeper Merrick turned towards his King, eyes filled with wonder. “It’s the girl, Sire. After your departure, she challenged the Labyrinth personally and her Challenge has been accepted.”         

            Bree’Onne had never seen the normally unflappable Goblin King look dumbfounded before. Jareth turned his head toward the Great Mirror. There, at the top, in letters of violet fire, was written, “Current Challenger: Sarah Williams.” Her Statement of Challenge was listed beneath her name. Jareth blinked and looked at the words again, as though he expected them to change. “The Labyrinth has never accepted a mortal Challenger,” he said. “This girl isn’t even an adult. And her words…that hardly seems like a proper Challenge! More like the foolish declaration of a child! Why would the Labyrinth accept?”

            Merrick shrugged, “Can’t say as I understand it myself, Your Majesty. The Labyrinth does as She does. Her reasons aren’t always for us to know.”

            Jareth pinched the bridge on nose with a long-suffering sigh. “True enough, Merrick. True enough. Monitor the situation closely. It seems I’ll have a bigger part to play today than expected.” He shook his head and stared at the mortal girl’s image in the Great Mirror. “A mortal girl…how absurd. Ah well, nothing can change it now. What’s done is done.” With those words, the Goblin King vanished as quickly as he’d appeared.  

            Bree’Onne turned towards the Great Mirror and settled into the cushioned leather of his chair. He couldn’t guess what any of this might mean. Mortal runners were in no actual danger during their quests. They simply had to refuse to give up. If they never surrendered, or if they proved that they were willing to sacrifice themselves to save the wish-away, then they were considered victorious. There were a fair number of successful runners. A Challenger, on the other hand, was in very real danger from the time they entered the Labyrinth. To be victorious, a Challenger had to actually defeat the Labyrinth’s Challenge. No one save the King had ever achieved that. _Would the Labyrinth actually kill the girl?_ he wondered.

            The scratching sound of quills against paper filled the room as the Lorekeepers eagerly recorded every detail revealed in the mirrors. This situation was new and none of them seemed to understand quite what such a change might herald. Bree’Onne could feel their excitement. Even amongst the Fae, most people feared change, but Lorekeepers always reveled in it. He heard Merrick’s delighted whisper, “History is happening!”

            The quest kept getting stranger the longer Bree’Onne watched. The Labyrinth always shifted itself to be a proper trial for the questor. After all, the purpose of the quest was to test the fortitude of the questor’s spirit, not what skills they possessed. He had seen it take on many different forms from hauntingly beautiful to utterly terrifying. But this form was bizarre, to say the least. This incarnation of the Labyrinth was run-down, ugly, and even comical at times. The poor Labyrinth denizens the girl encountered had been warped past all reason. Bree’Onne shuddered. Some things could not be unseen.

            The girl herself was bewildering, a study in contradictions. She displayed both strength of character and whining petulance. She was both manipulative and kind, both clever and foolhardy. Regardless, her determination didn’t waiver. Her sheer stubbornness was oddly captivating.

            After several hours, three elven serving girls entered with food for the observers. They flinched and looked away when Bree’Onne glanced up at them. Most of the servants found his appearance very disturbing. He chuckled in response. Bree’Onne was a half-breed. His mother, Maav’Ra, was High Princess of the Serpentine, the vicious snake goblins renowned for their skill as assassins. His father had been some unfortunate Sidhe lord whom Maav’Ra had tricked into her bed. Bree’Onne neither knew, nor cared, which lord had sired him. He had no interest in the fool’s title. Bree’Onne himself was in line for leadership of the Serpentine and had been given his current, coveted status as Royal Seneschal by the one who ruled all goblins. Regardless, his Sidhe blood served its purpose by enhancing his magic. He had by far the most magical potential of any living Serpentine. His upsetting appearance was just a bonus.

            Bree’Onne’s features were distinctively Sidhe in origin, the sweep of his cheekbones, the arch of his brow, the long ebon hair that he wore pulled back with a simple leather tie. But minor touches made such a difference. His fangs weren’t the subtle things most Sidhe possessed, but the pronounced fangs of a viper. His alabaster skin was covered in tiny scales. He had retractile claws and a serpent’s forked tongue. However, his eyes were what really bothered most Fae. They were faceted, glittering black, devoid of variance, and projecting malice. They marked him clearly as Serpentine. He smiled and murmured his thanks to the serving girls as they retreated, then took a plate for himself and went back to watching the quest play out.    

                  The hours the girl had spent in the Labyrinth had obviously done nothing to wear down her determination. If anything, she seemed more devoted to her quest. When she encountered the King for the second time, after her escape from an oubliette, she was no longer merely defiant towards His Majesty. Rather, she was impudent, brazen, and even mocking. _Does the child not comprehend the danger that she’s in?_ Bree’Onne wondered. He’d never seen anyone speak to Jareth with such disrespect and live before. She was even more of an oddity than the unprecedented form the Labyrinth had taken.

            By the time Bree’Onne had seen the Forbidden Bog, a terrifying place out of nightmare, transformed into the Bog of Eternal Stench, he felt like he was losing his mind. The courageous Sir Didymus, while still at his post, had been turned into an odd little fox-thing and his noble steed took the form of a cowardly, shaggy dog. Merrick assured him that nothing like this had ever happened in all of the Labyrinth’s history. It baffled the mind. Bree’Onne couldn’t even begin to imagine how His Majesty must feel. 

            When the girl ate the dream peach, Bree’Onne assumed that the game was over. Even powerful Fae very rarely escaped the peach dreams without aid, and sometimes not even then. Besides, the girl belonged to the Underground now. Bree’Onne shook his head. Considering the girl’s obsession with fantasy, he had believed she would know better than to eat food from the Fae realms. _Ah well,_ he thought, _it was an entertaining diversion while it lasted._ He started to rise, when he realized that the Lorekeepers were watching the mirrors with expressions of rapt anticipation. As servants of the Records, the Lorekeepers were known to have a feel for the approach of important events. Bree’Onne himself should have realized that today’s quest would be unusual by the sheer number of Lorekeepers present. No more than two or three were ever there to witness a mortal runner, but thirteen of them were in the room.

            Bree’Onne sat back down. The mirrors showed nothing of the girl’s dreaming, only her sleeping form, but he knew that the peach dreams were ones of temptation and enticement. He considered the sheer number of ploys the Labyrinth had used against her. Even if they had been oddly executed, she had faced many trials: physical danger, fear, confusion, betrayal, revulsion, mercy, and now pleasure. It was rare to see a Challenger overcome even a fraction of those. There was clearly something unique about this little mortal.

            Regardless, it was still surprising when the girl freed herself from the dreaming. The Labyrinth had transported her as she slept and she awakened in the Halls of Gold. Or at least, she awakened in what should have been the Halls of Gold. Now, they were an eerie copy of her own room from the mortal realm, filled with toys and trinkets from her past. She faced the challenge of avarice and overcame it with seemingly little effort.

            By the time the girl reached the Castle itself, Bree’Onne had started to believe she might actually win. She left her friends behind and went to face the Stairs of Relativity and the Goblin King alone. The Stairs were considered impossible for anyone but the King himself to navigate. It was a cruel final challenge and not one Bree’Onne would have expected, but she didn’t hesitate.

            Despite all that had transpired, it was Jareth’s words to her that made the Lorekeepers gasp in shock. The King proclaimed his love to this mortal girl, promised her everything, and even explained his actions. _Those are NOT ritual words_ , Bree’Onne realized. That meant that Jareth’s words were true. The Sidhe could not lie to humans on their own volition. The Goblin King was freely offering this slip of a girl what he’d refused to even consider granting to any Fae noblewoman. And the girl, Sarah, ignored the King, focused only on saving her brother. When she jumped, even Bree’Onne flinched. He heard the tolling of a bell and knew that the Labyrinth had a new Champion.

            Still, the mirrors showed Sarah facing the Goblin King. Jareth actually proposed to her in his attempt to convince her to stay. She had already won, but she didn’t relent. It was only when she spoke her final words to the King that the mirrors went dark. In that instant, they were words of power, potent as any spell, and they echoed through the Questing Room. “You have no power over me.”

            Bree’Onne couldn’t have said how long he sat there, motionless. He didn’t know what the consequences of the last hours would be, only that they would be great. Finally, he heard Merrick’s shocked whisper, “The painting!”

            Bree’Onne turned and saw that change had finally come to the Questing Room. He stood and approached the back wall. There, where Jareth’s painting had hung, was the image of a familiar mortal girl. The plaque beneath it read: “Lady Sarah the Defiant, Champion of the Labyrinth.” To the right of her portrait, a smaller version of Jareth’s portrait hung. The plaque beneath it had changed. “His Royal Highness, Prince Jareth the Clever, First Champion of the Labyrinth.” To the left of Sarah’s portrait, there was a painting of the Stairs of Relativity showing Sarah, Jareth, and even the baby.

            Bree’Onne turned to Merrick and asked, “If her portrait is here, that means that she holds full title, does it not?”

            Merrick nodded, his eyes never left the painting. “It does.”

            “Has any mortal ever held full title in the Underground?” Bree’Onne asked. He had certainly never heard of such a thing.

            Merrick shook his head. “No. I didn’t even know it was a possibility.”

            Bree’Onne began to speak, but Merrick cut him off with a sharp motion. “Before you ask, the answer is no. I have no idea what this means for any of us.”

            They stood there for a long time, staring at paintings in silence.

            After the Lady Sarah’s departure from the Underground, no one saw the King for nine days. The Labyrinth sounded no alarms, so Bree’Onne assumed that His Majesty was in no danger, but his extended absence was troubling. Jareth might vanish for a day here or there, but he’d never before been absent for such a long time. Bree’Onne would have sent out searchers and risked his King’s wrath, but he knew there was no point. If Jareth didn’t wish to be found, he wouldn’t be.

            On the tenth day, the Goblin King appeared at court as though no time had passed. He threw himself into his work with singular focus. At first, it was a relief to see the King so dedicated. Bree’Onne was able to convince himself that Jareth was simply making up for the time he had missed. Three months later, Bree’Onne was truly worried. Jareth did everything required to fulfil his duties as a king, but nothing else. When the day’s work was done, Jareth retreated to his private chambers. He accepted no visitors; he attended no gatherings. Jareth had always been social. As the only neutral monarch in the Underground, he was invited to every major event by both the Seelie and Unseelie courts. The masques he personally threw were the stuff of legends. Now, he barely spoke to his closest friends. Something was very wrong and Bree’Onne had no idea how it could be fixed.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.  
> Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	6. Training Day

            The first colors of dawn were filling the sky when Sarah awoke. She turned to look at her alarm clock. 5:35 a.m. Sarah glowered at the clock. Her alarm wasn’t set to go off for almost an hour, but she was wide awake. _Why the hell am I awake so early?_ She caught sight of a black form perched on her headboard as she stretched. “What time did I fall asleep last night?” she asked.

            Marvok opened his eyes and looked down at her. “You were asleep at 9:40 p.m. by your way of reckoning time.”

            _So early? No wonder I’m awake,_ Sarah thought. She considered the events of the previous night with blend of embarrassment and dark humor. _I guess being attacked by hideous child-things and having a complete meltdown really took it out of me._ She stood and stretched. She noticed that the mug she’d used last night was no longer on her desk. One of the goblins must have taken it to the kitchen. She remembered the pear. It was probably the best she’d ever eaten. She’d have to ask Karen what type of pear it was. A thought occurred to her. “There aren’t any pears in the kitchen, are there?” she asked.

            Azu looked up from her desk chair. “No,” he said, “there aren’t.”

            Sarah considered this. “Did it come from the Labyrinth?”    

            Azu nodded. “Of course. You hadn’t eaten any food from the Underground in some time. You’ll sicken if you don’t consume any for too long. That will happen faster now that you’ve ascended.”

            Sarah wasn’t particularly surprised. She’d read enough cautionary tales about eating food from the Fae realms to realize that the single bite of peach she’d eaten in the Labyrinth was enough to bind her to the place forever. She was lucky that the goblins were willing to retrieve more fruit for her. “I understand. Thank you for bringing it to me.” Azu tilted his head in acknowledgment of her thanks. After a pause she asked, “Did it make me fall asleep?” 

            Marvok spoke then, “No. The pear was not enchanted. Your tea was.”

            Sarah just nodded. She wanted to be angry with him, but couldn’t quite bring herself to be. After the childish fit she’d thrown, she probably deserved a time-out.

            Sarah headed to the bathroom to shower. She was grateful that all three goblins didn’t typically follow her in there. Apparently, one of them was considered adequate for the task. Marvok hopped off of her shoulder and settled himself on top of the medicine cabinet. He curled up and shut his eyes in a perfect approximation of a lazy cat. Sarah sighed and shook her head. Thankfully, it was easier to ignore the fact that he’d been person-shaped the night before when he acted like a winged feline.

            Thirty minutes later, Sarah was shaved and showered. She’d used her favorite body lotion, a locally made cream that Encore stocked. The scent she favored was called “Fairy Market” and smelled like incense and spices with the faintest hint of rose. It had been love at first sniff. Successfully moisturized, she grabbed her sunscreen and found the bottle to be nearly empty. After a few futile attempts to get out a decent amount, she tossed the container into the trash with a muttered, “Damn!”

            Azu, who was draped across her windowsill, peered up at her curiously. “Has that container offended you in some way?”

            Sarah sighed. “Only by being empty. I can’t believe I didn’t realize I was out of sunscreen and I just know that all my friends will want to spend lunch in the courtyard today. They always do when the weather is nice. I just hope I don’t get a burn on my cheeks again.”

            Azu bristled. “What would burn you? Surely you aren’t expecting an attack from humans with fire in this courtyard?”

            Sarah laughed, shaking her head. “No. Not that kind of burn. Really fair skinned humans, like me, are sensitive to sunlight. If I get too much of it, it damages my skin and turns it red. It’s called a sunburn. The cream I’m out of protects my skin so that doesn’t happen.”

            Azu stared at her for a moment before calming. “Ah. Well, that shouldn’t be a worry for you then. You won’t need this ‘sunscreen’ substance any longer.”

            Now, Sarah was the confused one. “How’s that exactly? My skin hasn’t gotten any darker.” She glanced at herself in the mirror appraisingly. “If anything, I may actually be paler than I used to be.”

            Azu nodded. “You’re becoming more Fae. Sunlight has no ill effects on Fae skin.” He paused, considering, “Well, there are a few species that are exceptions to this rule, but that doesn’t affect you. The transition has progressed to the point that sunlight won’t harm you.”

            Sarah blinked. _I’m becoming Fae? And I’ll never get another sunburn because of it?_ That’s convenient. A bit disconcerting, but convenient. “Oh. That’s good, I guess.”

            She obviously needed to ask her goblins some more questions about exactly what was happening to her, but now was not the time for that. She had to get ready school. She shook her head and pulled on her clothes for the day. Once dressed, Sarah stared at her reflection with critical eyes. She was completely comfortable with her boots, but the rest of the outfit left her feeling a bit…exposed. Karen had encouraged her to buy trendier clothing and Sarah leaned towards edgier and more fanciful. This outfit represented the compromise they’d reached. The skirt was black, pleated, and shorter than anything Sarah had ever worn before in her life. It wasn’t obscene or anything, but her costume skirts always went to her knees at least. Most of them trailed almost to the ground. A skirt that ended just below mid-thigh seemed microscopic compared to what she was used to. Her silky emerald tank top wasn’t much better. It was ruched and clingy. The fact that she’d gotten curvier over the summer didn’t help matters.

            She tried to look at herself objectively. The black, steel-toed Doc Marten’s helped ground everything. They kept her from looking like the girls from the cheer squad. Besides, the top wasn’t that low-cut and the skirt wasn’t that short really. Most of the popular girls at school wore far more revealing outfits. She just wasn’t used to this sort of clothing. _Adapt,_ she told herself. Sarah put on her choker and felt bit better about her appearance immediately. She’d had it for less than a day and it had already become part of her mental image of herself. She heard the familiar sound of Karen heading downstairs to fix breakfast. Sarah shook her head; she’d just have to deal with the outfit. Karen had been so pleased with her new wardrobe and most of her old things were gone. There was no turning back now. With a sigh, Sarah headed back to the bathroom to blow dry her hair.  

            By 7:25 a.m. Sarah was enraged and on her way to school. She’d handled everything well that morning. She’d been responsible and prepared. She hadn’t lost it when she found out she was turning into a Fae. She accepted the unfamiliar clothing. Then, she’d gone downstairs for breakfast. Her father had taken one look at her outfit and lost his mind. He said she looked like a harlot and demanded that she go change, swearing he wouldn’t let his daughter leave the house dressed like a cheap slut. Still, she’d managed to stay logical and tried to reason with him. But no, he couldn’t leave it at that. He found the words to break her calm. “You may think dressing like that will get all the boys to notice you, young lady, but let me tell you…”

            Sarah didn’t know how that sentence was supposed to end. He hadn’t gotten any further. Karen’s rage had been like a freak tornado and Sarah left the house while her father fell victim to its onslaught. Sarah had thought that she’d seen Karen angry before. She’d been wrong. Karen heard the argument from upstairs and descended on Robert Williams like an avenging goddess. Part of Sarah wanted to stay and watch him suffer, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut, so she left. Saint James High was a couple of miles from her house and she hoped the walk would help her gather her bearings. So far, it wasn’t working.

            Sarah had always been a stomper when she was angry. She wasn’t proud of it, but she knew that stomping away in a huff was sort of her signature move since childhood. She didn’t stomp anymore; she _stalked_ , every movement graceful and predatory. Sarah didn’t notice the change, but her goblins did and smiled.

            _How DARE he?_ she asked herself. It was the accusation that filled her with fury, her father’s presumption regarding her motives. She couldn’t care less about getting some boy’s attention. She took on this role to please her parents, not some jerk from her high school. Her father wanted her to stop acting like a little girl and she had. He wanted her to get along with Karen and be responsible. She did all of it. Now, he was angry that she didn’t look like a little girl anymore. _Screw him. I did what he wanted. If he doesn’t like the results he can shove it,_ she told herself.

            _“Everything that you wanted, I have done.”_ The familiar words floated through her mind. _“I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me.”_ For the first time, Sarah sympathized with the Goblin King. Maybe she owed him an apology, even if he was a vindictive god-king who was just trying to play her. Living up to the expectations of self-absorbed brats _was_ exhausting. She’d never thought of her father as a brat before, but he’d certainly acted like one today. Between him and Linda, Sarah just had to hope that brattiness wasn’t an inherited trait. She was embarrassed enough remembering how she’d acted at the beginning of summer and she still had the excuse of being a teenager. She’d die from humiliation if she behaved that way at forty. Thankfully, the image of her father throwing a temper tantrum like a five-year-old was amusing enough to break through some of her rage. Unfortunately, once her anger subsided a bit, she realized that she was ravenous. She’d never actually made it to breakfast. She checked the time and decided to stop by The Coffee Zone and grab something to eat as she finished her walk.

            As soon as Sarah stepped into the coffee shop, she saw Nikki’s distinctive angled bob. It was currently dyed a brilliant cobalt blue. She called out her friend’s name.

            Nikki turned and froze. “Holy shit! You look amazing!” Her pale eyes narrowed in exaggerated suspicion. “Who are you and what have you done with Sarah?”

            Sarah laughed as she pulled the taller girl into a hug. “I’m so friggin’ glad you’re back, Nik. It’s been one hell of a day.”

            Nikki’s eyebrows rose. “Already? It’s like, 7:30 in the morning. Did Karen go psycho on you again?”

            Sarah shook her head. “Not this time. Let me grab a mocha and I’ll fill you in on the way.”

            After school, Sarah headed home. Unsurprisingly, Nikki was grounded for two weeks. This had happened every year since they were in seventh grade. Nikki always talked her dad into going along with something that her mom didn’t approve of. Last year she’d gotten her belly button pierced. This year, she’d come home with a tattoo. Sarah hadn’t been jealous of the various piercings Nikki acquired over the years, but she was a bit jealous of the tattoo. It would be nice to have something to commemorate her time in the Labyrinth. She decided that if she was still on Earth when she turned eighteen, she was getting one done. _Maybe a barn owl…_ Sarah went still at the thought. What was she thinking? _He_ took the form of a barn owl. She definitely shouldn’t be considering branding herself with _His_ image.

            Marvok’s voice cut into her thoughts. “I do believe that it is time we began your training, Champion.”

            Relieved to have something other than the Goblin King to occupy her mind, Sarah turned towards the shadow goblin. “Sounds good. Where do we start? Should I change into workout clothes?”

            Marvok nodded while flashing her a grin. “That would probably be best. You need basic physical conditioning as well as combat training. I suspect you would prefer to run in something other than your current attire.”

            Sarah changed and wrote Karen a note explaining that she was at the park and would be home in time to help with dinner. She was nervous, but excited. Marvok was actually going to train her. She was going to learn how to fight.

            She was less pleased an hour later. Every muscle in her body was screaming. Apparently when Marvok said she needed “basic physical conditioning” he had meant that she was being enrolled in shadow goblin boot camp. The goblins were relentless. They used tiny bolts of stinging magic as motivational tools. They were definitely motivating. That shit _hurt_. It was like the world’s worst static shock combined with a bee sting. Sarah was ready to collapse when Marvok halted the exercises. She stumbled away from the running trail and sprawled out flat on her back in the grass. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

            Nessos crouched beside her head and chuckled. He handed her a glass bottle filled with a faintly iridescent, clear liquid. “Drink.”

            “What is it?” she asked.

            “Water from one of the Labyrinth’s healing springs. It will help.”

            She took the bottle and drank the contents gratefully. “Thank you.”

            Nessos paused, his face serious, “You are welcome, but you need to understand something, Champion. The blood bond is such that no debts can exist between us. Therefore, it’s not a problem when you thank us. We understand your meaning. However, you must never say those words to any other Fae. Do you understand?”   

            Realization dawned on Sarah. She’d read about this. “If I thank them, I’m acknowledging that I owe them a debt and that gives them power over me.”

            Nessos nodded. “Correct. It is not a mistake you can afford to make.”

            Sarah considered this. “What should I say instead?”

            “It would be appropriate to say that you appreciate their kindness or their generosity. Something to that affect.”

            Sarah nodded. “I’ll work on it.”

            Azu appeared on her other side and handed her a strange, oblong fruit with gleaming violet skin. “This is a bloodfruit. It will help you recover.”

            She took it from him with a nod. “I appreciate your kindness,” she told him. The goblins smiled.

            The bloodfruit tasted unlike anything else she’d ever eaten. It was deliciously tart, but spicy. Under its violet skin, the fruit was the crimson of fresh blood. It was easy to see where the name had come from. After she finished eating, she got back to her feet. She had to admit that she felt much better. “What now? Do I have to run more?”

            Marvok laughed. “No. Now it is time for you to begin combat training.” He directed her back to the sheltered clearing where The Unhallowed had attacked. “I have cloaked this area. No one will detect us.”

            Sarah turned to look down at him and found that she had to look up instead. Marvok had once more taken his humanoid form. Sarah swallowed. Fear aura aside, a six-foot-two warrior Marvok was a lot more intimidating than the tiny version. He held out one hand and a wicked, curved sword appeared hovering above his palm. It was identical to the blades he’d used against The Unhallowed. “You must learn to manifest a Darkblade. To begin, you will learn to take one I bring forth and maintain its form.”

            Sarah eyed the shadowy weapon with trepidation. “Um…Is that really necessary? Couldn’t I just learn to use a regular sword to start?”

            Marvok arched one brow. “Where exactly do you plan to acquire a combat-grade sword, Champion? Do you know of any blacksmiths in this realm who craft enchanted cold-iron blades? Nothing short of that will pose any real threat to a Fae. And how do you plan to explain your need to carry this weapon once you have it?”

            Sarah looked at her feet. She could feel her cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “I guess I didn’t really think that through.”

            “Obviously not. Once you learn to manifest one, a Darkblade is an ideal weapon. It can never be taken from you or turned against you. It can cut through virtually anything and is utterly deadly. It can bypass most magical protections. Further, you cannot harm yourself with it.”

            Sarah looked up. That was admittedly impressive. “Really? They must be popular in the Underground.”

            Marvok chuckled. “Hardly. The magic that they are formed from is unique to my people. Only one with shadow goblin blood can manifest a Darkblade.”

            Sarah blinked. “But then how…” She looked down at the starbursts marking her left wrist.

            Marvok flashed her a half-smile. “I see that you understand. Our bond means that you have enough shadow goblin blood to create a Darkblade. You will be the only individual not of my species to have this ability. Some enemies will yield out of the fear that alone will cause.”

            Sarah nodded. “Alright. What do I do?

              Marvok motioned towards the blade with his other hand. “Look at the blade. Study its design. You must take it by the hilt and use your will to hold its shape. Focus on keeping it exactly as it is.” He paused, his ruby gaze burning into her own. “You must not fear the Darkblade, Champion. If you fear it, you will never master its power.”

            Sarah nodded and took a shaking breath. She studied the floating sword with singular focus until she was certain that she would never forget this weapon. Every detail was burned into her mind. She reached out and lightly gripped the hilt. Searing cold flowed over her fingers and crawled up her arm. Shock left her motionless and wide-eyed. She felt the Darkblade, felt its malevolence, its hunger. It craved blood. It thirsted for fear and pain and death. She screamed and the blade vanished.

             “Again,” Marvok ordered. He gestured and the sword reappeared above his hand. Sarah didn’t want to try again. She’d never experienced such evil before. _You must do this,_ she told herself. She reached out again. This time it burned like fire. She held on despite the pain. It wasn’t until the waves of dark hunger began filling her mind with hideous images that she let go. Sarah collapsed, weeping to her knees. “Oh, God. I can’t. I just can’t. It’s evil.” She buried her face in her hands.

            Marvok waited until the worst of her sobs subsided. “It is not evil,” he said. “Neither is it good. Not all things are bound by such concepts. The Darkblade is fear given form. However, it is predatory and it will feed off of you if you allow it.”

            Sarah looked up at him with tear-swollen eyes. “Fear of what?” she asked.  

            Marvok shrugged. “Of the dark and that which hides within it. It is the fear of that which will always come, but will never be seen until far too late.”

            Sarah shuddered. She’d read extensively about common phobias in her sophomore drama class. The teacher thought it was something important for anyone who worked in theatre to understand. “That’s a primal fear.”

            Marvok nodded. “Indeed. Hence, its power. Again.”

            On the sixth try, as Sarah was about to give up, she felt a burst of mockery from the blade. Terror turned to rage in an instant. _Laugh at me will you?_ she thought. _I don’t think so. I’ll be damned before I’ll let you beat me!_ Her grip closed firm around the hilt as she glared at the weapon. The sword stilled in her hand.

            Marvok laughed. “Well done, Champion. You live up to your title.”

            Sarah raised her eyes to meet his. “Champion?”

            Marvok shrugged. “I was thinking of ‘Defiant’, actually. I did not expect you to learn to hold it on your first day. I should have taken your temper into account.”

            Sarah shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her head was beginning to throb. “What do I do with it now?”

            “You have mastered the blade. It is yours now. Will it to release its physical form and call the power into yourself.”

            Sarah nodded and looked down at what was apparently _her_ Darkblade. She was still pissed at the damn thing. How dare it laugh at her? She envisioned it melting into shadows and flowing into her skin. When it resisted, she hissed at it. She was sick of this game. “You _will_ obey!” The sword turned to mist and sunk under her skin leaving tingles along her arm.

            Marvok smiled. “An excellent start. I do believe that it is time for us to return to your parents’ house. Tonight, in your dreams, I will begin teaching you to properly summon and banish it.”

            Sarah stared at him in horror. _In her dreams?_ This was going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.   
>  Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	7. A Question of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This is an updated version. After receiving some questions on another site, I decided to update the portion of this chapter where Marvok explains the function of the Labyrinth and the nature of goblins. Everything else is the same. As this information is important to the plot, I wanted to make certain that it was understandable. Please let me know if I've succeeded or if it still needs work. This sort of feedback really helps me to improve my work and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. Thanks so much to all of you for reading.
> 
> P.S. For those of you who are waiting, Chapter 8 will be up this sometime this weekend. It's written and getting its final editing pass now.

 

 

 

 

 **Well now you're only fifteen/** ****  
And you look good/  
I'll take you under my wing/  
Somebody should/  
They've persuasive ways/  
And you'll believe what they say/  
It's just a question of time/  
It's running out for you/  
It won't be long until you'll do/  
Exactly what they want you to.

**~ from _A Question of Time_ by Depeche Mode**

            The next two weeks fell into a comfortable rhythm. At school, Sarah hung out with Nikki and her other friends from the drama club. Afterwards, she went home, changed, and went to the park. Half of the time, Sarah was put through more of Marvok’s agonizing “physical conditioning.” Once she collapsed, she consumed whatever food or drink the goblins presented to her. Then, she would return to the clearing and Marvok would instruct her through a sequence of slow, graceful movements that he called “forms.” He assured her that these would eventually turn into actual fighting skills. On alternate days, she was only forced to go for a short warmup run before spending the rest of her time focused on her forms and developing her ability with the Darkblade. It was never easy. The damn thing fought her at every turn. Regardless, she always forced it to obey in the end.

            After her training, Sarah would go home, shower, and have dinner with her family. The evenings were spent doing homework and further research. In her dreams, Marvok trained her in mental exercises that were meant to develop her magical control. He explained that Fae children spent the better part of a century perfecting these exercises before learning any actual magic. “You,” he promised, “are a much faster study.” Marvok enchanted her tea to make her fall asleep every night. She let him. She needed that sleep.

            Sarah and her father never discussed what happened the morning before the first day of school. He didn’t say another word about it, so she held her tongue. Karen questioned Sarah’s new-found obsession with physical fitness after the first week. “Sweetie, you know I want to support your choices, but you don’t have to put yourself through this. You have a lovely figure.     I know how much pressure is on young women these days to keep up a certain appearance, but you shouldn’t listen to that nonsense. You’re a beautiful young lady and I never want you to let anyone tell you otherwise.”

            Sarah stared at Karen in surprise before bursting into laughter. “Is that what you think this is about? Have you seen how much I eat lately?”

            Karen gave her a puzzled look. “This isn’t about your figure?”

            Sarah shook her head, still giggling. “Hardly. If I wanted to get the current “in” look I’d need to starve myself. I’m doing this for me, Karen. I want to be in better shape because I want to be stronger, not because I want to be prettier.”

            Despite their conversation, Karen still seemed confused and a bit worried about Sarah, but as she watched Sarah at meals, she realized that her stepdaughter ate healthfully and even ate more than was previously normal. After that, Karen gave her full support to Sarah’s interest. She bought Sarah new workout clothes and running shoes over the weekend before the third week of school started.

            On the third Monday after school started, Nikki’s time of imprisonment had finally come to an end. Nikki insisted that they go out and celebrate her release, but Sarah was torn. It wasn’t as though she didn’t want to see Nikki, but today was one of her harder training days.

            “I really want to hang out, but I have other obligations,” Sarah explained. “If we wait until tomorrow, we can go to Fast Times, my treat.”

            Nikki sighed. “Is Karen forcing you to babysit the Golden Prince again?”

            Sarah shook her head. “It’s not like that. Karen’s been great this summer. Besides, he was a hellion last year because he was teething. He’s way easier to deal with now.”

            Nikki shot her a disbelieving look. Sarah rolled her eyes at her friend. “Seriously, Nikki. It’s not like it was. Remember how she stood up for me when my dad lost it on the first day of school?” 

            Nikki chewed her bottom lip. “Okay. I admit that it was cool of her to stand up to your dad for you.” She sighed. “Fine. But I want you to promise that you won’t just sit at the café the whole time we’re at Fast Times. I want to play laser tag and you’re my partner, Princess.”

            Sarah laughed. She gave Nikki a mock curtsey. “As you command, oh great one.”

            Sarah’s training session went well that afternoon. She knew that she was getting stronger and faster. Her forms were becoming more fluid. Marvok only hit her with stinging corrections a couple of times during the entire session. At the end, he said, “Good. You are coming along better than I had hoped. Soon enough we should be able to move on to working with two blades instead of one.”

            Sarah’s eyes widened. “Two blades? I’m supposed to do this while controlling multiple Darkblades?”

            Marvok nodded. “Of course. You have seen us in combat, Champion. You know that shadow goblins wield a pair of them.”

            “But…I only have the one.” Sarah would never forget exactly how unpleasant that experience had been.

            “True enough. I crafted a Darkblade and passed it to you after you mastered its power. Soon, it will be time for you to craft one of your own making. It is a necessary step.” Marvok gave her a pointed look.

            Sarah knew better than to argue with him. After all, she had asked for this training. She didn’t want him to change his mind. Sarah took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Whenever you think I’m ready.”

            Marvok simply smiled.

***JS*JS*JS***

            The next afternoon, Nikki and Sarah headed to Fast Times after school. It was, without question, the single most popular hangout for the kids from their school. The place featured both an indoor go-cart track and an outdoor one, a mini-golf course, a bowling alley, an arcade, a café, and three laser tag arenas. There was even a bar/arcade combo for adults, but Sarah had never been past the smoked glass doors that led into that area.

            Because Fast Times was on the edge of town, they took Nikki’s ancient VW Beetle instead of walking. The previous owner had painted the little car with black and white stripes. Nikki fell in love with the old thing and named it Beetlejuice. Even though it was hideous, Sarah had been jealous when Nikki got the car the spring before. Sarah had skipped first grade, so she was younger than the other kids in her class. She longed for the freedom of being able to drive herself places and had already passed her driver’s ed course during the spring semester. She could only hope that her parents decided to get her a car for her sixteenth birthday. Her training schedule didn’t really leave much time for an after school job.

            The girls grabbed a snack at the café while waiting for the other kids Nikki invited to arrive. Sarah looked up from her mocha and asked, “Who are we waiting for anyway? You never said who was coming.” 

            Nikki grinned sheepishly. “I may have invited Jerome…and told him it was cool if Eric came with.” She gave Sarah a hopeful look. “You don’t mind, do you?”

            Nikki had had a crush on Jerome since sixth grade. The two had been neighbors since kindergarten, but he’d seemed unaware of the fact that Nikki was a girl until this year. He’d always been nice enough. Sarah didn’t really know him that well. Jerome wasn’t in the drama club like his best friend, Eric, was, so she hadn’t spent that much time around him. Eric had always been a sweetheart and one of the few kids who never teased Sarah about her daydreaming. She smiled and gave Nikki’s hand a squeeze. “It’s fine, Nikki. This is supposed to be your celebration.”     

            Nikki sighed in relief. “Thanks. I knew you’d get it.”

            A voice called out from behind them, “Nikki! Sarah!”

            They turned and waved at the two males approaching their table. Jerome was tall, dark, and well-built. He was cute enough, but not so much that Sarah understood her friend’s obsession. Eric was just as tall, but blond and lanky. Overall, Sarah found him much more attractive. When Nikki didn’t respond, Sarah glanced at her. Nikki was blushing a brilliant scarlet. In an attempt to save her friend embarrassment, Sarah turned back towards the guys and teased, “We were wondering when you two would show up. Did you get lost?”

            Eric laughed. “You know how it is.” He punched Jerome lightly on the arm. “This guy has no sense of direction.”  

            Jerome glared at his friend. “No sense of direction, my ass! We’ll see how cocky you are in the maze!”

            Eric groaned. Sarah looked at them curiously. “The maze?”

            Jerome grinned. “They added a new laser course over the summer. It’s this awesome maze. They change it every couple of weeks so it doesn’t get boring. Eric and I did one-on-one matches in there all summer and I haven’t lost yet. It was closed yesterday while they reset it, so you can’t say it isn’t fair. I’m betting that Nikki and me will beat you two in no time.”

            Sarah blinked. She hadn’t expected her and Nikki to be split up, but one glance at her friend’s dreamy expression convinced her to go along with it. Besides, after what she had gone through, she wasn’t worried about a laser maze. Sarah arched a brow at Jerome. “I’ll take that bet. What’s your wager?”

            Jerome laughed. “You have no idea what you’re in for. Hmmmm…if we win, you and Eric have to pay for all of us to go again this Saturday. If you guys win, I’ll pay for all four of us, same time.”

            Sarah considered her training schedule. Saturday was a light day and since it was her and Nikki and the two guys she could tell her stepmother that it was a double date which would make Karen happy. Even if Sarah and Eric were just friends, it still counted. She nodded at Jerome. “You’re on.”

            Eric and Jerome had already bought their tickets, but Eric walked with Sarah when she went to buy tickets for Nikki and herself. “I hope you know that he’s going to be insufferable when we lose,” Eric moaned. 

            Sarah gave him a cheeky grin. “Who said anything about losing?”

            Eric rolled his eyes. “You don’t get it! Jerome is crazy good at this course. I’m a great shot, but I get way too turned around in there for it to matter.”

            Sarah looked up at Eric. “Are you a better shot than Jerome?”

            He nodded. “Yeah, but like I said…”

            Sarah cut him off. “Then we’re the perfect team. I’m a regular champion when it comes to mazes. I’ll get us through. You focus on taking them down when I find them.”

            “You’re that sure you can navigate the place?” he asked.

            Sarah smiled. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

            Thirty minutes later, Sarah and Eric were strapped with laser tag gear and standing at their starting gate. Eric paced nervously in front of the door while they waited for it to open. Sarah was calm. She could feel the maze waiting for her, welcoming her. She felt the presence of the Labyrinth. It was faint, only an echo of the real thing, but it was enough. Jerome had no chance against the Labyrinth’s Champion. Not here. 

            As the doors slid open, Sarah took the lead. She glanced over her shoulder at Eric. “Stay quiet and follow me.”

***JS*JS*JS***

            Eric followed Sarah into the maze. He’d never seen her so confident before. She’d always been a sweet girl. Her head was in the clouds to be sure, but she’d always been nice. He’d tried to keep the other kids off of her back about her fairy tales, figuring it wasn’t easy to have the whole damn world know about your mom running off with a co-star and ditching your family. He figured that fantasy was just how she coped with getting dealt a rotten hand and he knew a bit about how that felt.

              Now, Sarah was like a different person. The maze was lit only by black light and it was hard to see clearly, but she didn’t seem bothered. She crept forward silently, gracefully, every move radiating certainty. At the first fork, she turned right without hesitation. He whispered, “Sarah, are you sure…”

            She turned back to him with one finger pressed to her lips and he fell silent. She definitely seemed to know what she was doing. He followed her through six more turnings and she never even paused. _How does she know where to go?_ he wondered. Finally, Sarah stopped. She cocked her head as though listening. Eric could barely make out Nikki and Jerome whispering on the other side of the wall. He slipped forward and pressed his ear against the wall to hear better; the competition was trying to decide which turn to take.

            Sarah tapped his arm to get his attention. He turned towards her and she motioned for him to follow. She slipped into a nearby dead end and started to climb. _How is she…_ Eric looked closer and realized that there was a ladder hidden in the corner, matte black rungs against a matte black wall. _How did she even notice that?_ He shook his head and climbed up behind her. At the top, they were able to reach a hidden walkway that ran inside of the wall. Sarah led him to another ladder and he discovered that there was a room inside of the maze’s tower. She pointed to a small platform and Eric smiled. He crept onto it and waited. As Nikki and Jerome walked past him, he easily tagged them both. A bell sounded their victory and the lights came up. Jerome’s eyes were wide with shock. “How the hell?” He heard Eric snicker above him. Jerome glared up at his friend. “How did you get up there?”

            Eric shrugged. “Sarah wasn’t kidding when she told me she was good at mazes and she has eyes like a cat. She saw stuff I never would’ve spotted in here.”

            Sarah leaned out above him and waved. “Looks like you’re paying this Saturday.”

            Jerome shook his head, but smiled. “Fine. A deal’s a deal. No mazes next time though. We’ll see how tough you are on the go-cart track.”

***JS*JS*JS***

            On the drive back to Sarah’s place, Nikki was excited to bursting. “I don’t know how you did it, Sarah! You have to help me pick out something to wear this Saturday. I want to look hot.” Nikki turned and gave Sarah a pleading look. “Tell me you’ll help.”

            Sarah laughed. “Of course I’ll help. Not that you need any. Jerome clearly likes you.”

            “Do you really think so?”

            Sarah rolled her eyes. “Obviously. Didn’t you notice how he set up for us to go out again on Saturday regardless of who won?”

            Nikki chewed her lip. “I guess. But he could have done that because Eric has a thing for you. It may not be about me and him at all.”

            “If that were true he wouldn’t have left you out of paying. If Eric and I lost we were supposed to pay for Saturday, but if you guys lost, he said he’d pay himself. Besides, Eric didn’t act interested. He acted like a friend.”

            Nikki shook her head. “He’s probably just shy, Sarah. I’ve never seen him ask anyone out before.” Nikki shot Sarah a look, “Don’t you like him?”

            Sarah sighed. Eric was attractive, but she wasn’t particularly attracted to him. A certain vindictive god-king had sort of set an impossible standard for some high school guy to live up to. However, she couldn’t very well tell Nikki that she wasn’t interested in Eric because she was too busy fantasizing about the Goblin King. Finally, she said, “I admit that Eric is cute. I’m just not sure he’s my type.”

            Nikki considered this. She was well aware of what type of guys drew Sarah’s notice. “So, what you’re telling me is that you don’t like tall, slender, blue-eyed blondes. Is that what I’m hearing?”

            Sarah winced. “I didn’t say that…”

            Nikki grinned, but didn’t say anything in reply. Sarah bit back a groan. She should have known better than to bait her friend like that. Now, Nikki would be hell bent on setting Sarah up with Eric and there was little Sarah could do to discourage her.   

***JS*JS*JS***

            The next three weeks of school were far more difficult for Sarah to manage than the first two had been. While Nikki was grounded, it was easy for Sarah to keep to her training schedule, complete all her schoolwork, and still have plenty of time for her research. Now, Nikki was constantly interfering with Sarah’s plans. Not only had Nikki mastered the art of accepting invitations on Sarah’s behalf, the blue-haired minx was also adept at winning Karen’s support in her endeavors.   

            As Sarah had feared, Nikki was determined to force Sarah and Eric into a relationship that neither of them seemed eager to be a part of. It wasn’t that Sarah didn’t like Eric; he was a good friend and wonderful company. She just had no desire to be his girlfriend. For his part, Eric seemed happy with their friendship and never pushed for more. Regardless, Nikki was oblivious to their mutual lack of attraction and nothing Sarah said dissuaded her efforts. Even worse, Jerome had taken up Nikki’s cause. Only a week after their afternoon in the laser maze, Jerome and Nikki announced themselves as a couple and Jerome was determined that Eric and Sarah follow suit.

            After weeks of this, Sarah was exhausted. She couldn’t ignore her training or her homework, but the busy social schedule that Nikki arranged for her left no time for her research or anything else that might interest her. _How long has it been since I read a book because I felt like it?_ Sarah wondered. She was grateful that Karen insisted on buying her concealer before school started. Sarah’s skin was smooth and unblemished as polished marble, but she needed the cream to cover up the dark circles under her eyes.

            On the last Wednesday of September, Sarah couldn’t wait for school to end. She had finally managed to get Nikki to agree to back off for a few days by promising that she’d go to Andrea’s party on Saturday. Andrea was the most popular girl in the senior class and her parties were legendary. Sarah had no desire to go. She never went to parties. Besides, she was only invited because she was theoretically Eric’s date. None-the-less, sacrifices had to be made. Marvok was determined to teach her how to manifest a second Darkblade and she needed a few days without constant socializing to focus on that. After two days of listening to Nikki beg her to go to the party, Sarah snapped, “Fine! I’ll go, but only if you give me the evenings until Saturday to myself.”

            Nikki gave her a hurt look, “Why are you mad? Don’t you like having a social life?”

            Sarah sighed, rubbing her temples. She really didn’t want to hurt her friend. She knew that Nikki was honestly trying to help her. Sarah tried to sound calm when she answered. “It’s not that I’m mad. I’m just not used to this, Nikki. I’ve never been crazy social like you are. Being around people all the time wears me out. If I’m going to make it through a party, let alone enjoy one, I need some time to myself first. If you had any idea how much concealer it took to cover up the circles under my eyes this morning, you’d understand.”

            Nikki blinked. “Oh! I didn’t think about it like that. I guess I’ve been pushing you too hard. I was just so happy that you were finally coming out of your shell.” Nikki turned huge eyes on Sarah. “Forgive me?”

            Sarah hugged her. “You’re forgiven, freak. Just give me a little more down time between performances. You don’t want me to panic and climb back into that shell, do you?”

            When the bell rang that afternoon, Sarah waved at Nikki and headed home. She had bought herself three days of freedom from hanging out. Now, she could focus on what was really important. On the way home she asked Marvok, _“Okay. How are we doing this? Should I change to go to the park?”_

            “No,” he said. “It will not harm you to miss a day of physical training. I want you to focus on crafting the blade and that will require substantial energy. It will be easier for you to craft a Darkblade when you are asleep. This realm is not ideal for the creation of such a thing and I assume that you would prefer that I not physically take you to another plane of existence at this time.”

            Sarah hesitated before answering. Part of her was afraid, but another part desperately wanted to see another world. Finally she asked, _“What plane is the best for this?”_

            Marvok chuckled darkly. “The Nightmare Realm, of course. Where else would one go to craft a perfect fear?”

            Sarah swallowed. _“You’re telling me that there is an actual, physical realm of nightmares?”_

            Marvok answered, “Not exactly. Technically, only half of the realm would be considered Nightmare. The other half you would call Dream. They are one plane and operate under one set of rules. However, the two regions are so different from each other, that most planar scholars list them as separate realms.”

            _“I see,”_ Sarah commented. The idea that dreams and nightmares came from some alien dimension was unsettling. _“In that case, I would rather do this in a dream. Or, in a nightmare, I suppose. I don’t really feel like physically traveling to some hellscape today if I have another option.”_

            Marvok’s laugh sent a shiver down her spine. “I suspected that you might prefer that. The offer is open if you ever change your mind. I would be delighted to show you my homeland.”

            Sarah stumbled at his words. “Homeland?” she whispered before she could stop herself. She took a deep breath and focused on communicating mentally. _“I thought you were from the Underground, from the Labyrinth.”_

            “I am from the Labyrinth, Champion. While her Heart is in the Underground, She exists in all realms. You personally felt Her presence in that human-built maze a few weeks ago. She is the gateway between dimensions. However, I was not born in the Underground incarnation of the Labyrinth. Like most of my kind, I was born in that portion of the Labyrinth that lies in Nightmare. Before our battle with The Unhallowed, Nessos told you that our kind are…unique. Perhaps we should discuss the nature of She whose Champion you are before continuing. I suspect you have questions.”  

            Sarah nodded weakly and spoke no more as she finished her walk home. When she got to her house, the front door swung open. She didn’t question it. Her hands were shaking and it wouldn’t have been easy to get her key into the lock. She hiked up the stairs as the door swung shut behind her. Once Sarah was in her room, she sat in her desk chair. Marvok hopped onto the desk and turned to face her, his expression expectant.

            She took a slow breath to calm herself. “When Nessos told me how the challenge worked, I was concerned that it would make you guys mortal and put you in danger. He laughed and told me that it would make you exactly as mortal as you were in the Underground.”

            Marvok gave her an encouraging nod and waited for her to continue.

            She looked him straight in the eyes as she spoke. “You’re not mortal in the Underground, are you? Fae aren’t mortal here because this isn’t their home realm and you aren’t mortal in the Underground because you’re from Nightmare.”

            Marvok nodded and flashed a wicked smile. “Correct.”

            “If you’re from Nightmare, how are you goblins? Aren’t goblins a type of Fae? And don’t Fae come from the Underground?” she asked.

            Marvok tilted his head, studying her. “Those are not simple questions, Champion. To understand the answers, you will need to have a better understanding of the nature of the Labyrinth. Things are rarely as you might expect and nothing is as simple as you seem to believe.” He paused, considering. “There are many realms. So far you have seen only two, the mortal realm and the Underground; however, there are far more you are unaware of. The creatures you call the Fae control a number of these realms. Avalon, Mag Mell, and the Underground are a few of the better-known ones. Of the Fae realms, the Underground is the largest. Additionally, there are many realms which are not under the control of the Fae. Nightmare, the Shifting Lands, and the Mirror Realm are some examples. A number of these realms are controlled by creatures whom are of a magical nature, but are not Fae. Human legend speaks of a few of these creatures. The Djinn, the Yokai, and Dragon-kind are all powerful in their own right, but they are of a different nature. Do you understand?” 

            Sarah nodded. “There are lots of different realms and only some of them are controlled by the Fae. There are also other realms and other magical races. But what does this…”

            She trailed off when she noticed Marvok’s irritation. “I did warn you that your questions were not simple ones to answer, did I not?”

            Sarah felt heat rise to her cheeks and nodded sheepishly. “Sorry. Please go on.”

            He sighed before continuing. “The Labyrinth is the place where all realms touch. She is the crossroads between worlds and exists in all realms. However, as I stated before, the Heart of the Labyrinth is anchored to the Underground. There She exists in her purest form. Sadly, this description does not do Her justice. She is far more than a gateway. Our Lady is a mighty realm in Her own right. Great scholars have dedicated countless mortal lifetimes attempting to define Her nature. Regardless, what you need to understand is that the boundaries of the Labyrinth are not limited to any one realm.”     

            That made sense to Sarah. “That’s why I could feel the Labyrinth’s presence in that laser maze even though it was faint. In some way, She’s here even while She’s there.”

            Marvok nodded. “Correct. Because the energies from all realms pour into the Labyrinth and mix there, all of the inhabitants of the Labyrinth are eventually changed by exposure to these mingled energies. The process has been occurring for countless generations. No race that has spent generations within the Labyrinth, or within Her vicinity, has remained as they began. She changes us. That is what goblins are, the realm-touched children of the Labyrinth. The term does not refer to any specific race, but rather to all of those that have been altered by Her power. Because the Heart of the Labyrinth is anchored to a Fae realm, all goblins are at least partially Fae. In most cases, that Fae nature is dominant, but not in all. My people are an extreme exception to this tendency. We are more nightmare than Fae. Thus, we are greatly feared.”    

            Sarah blinked. The pieces were starting to fall into place and the picture that they formed wasn’t comforting. “That’s why you radiate menace the way that you do. You’re actual nightmares.”

            “Indeed.” Marvok’s eyes flared brighter and the shadows seemed to warp around him. The subtle threat that normally hung in the air around him twisted and grew. His dark voice whispered, “We are nightmares; we are shadows; we are the heralds of darkness. What you think of as darkness, is merely the absence of light. It is not true darkness. That deeper darkness does not exist in this world naturally, but you have seen it.” His power rippled through the room, carrying the promise of pain.

            Sarah had not feared Marvok since the night of the blood bond, but in that moment, she did. Once again, she felt like prey trapped by an inescapable predator. She forced herself to speak, “The Darkblades.” He said nothing, but he coiled forward to pounce, claws flexing, lips pulled back to reveal razor-edged teeth. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She had to defend herself! She heard her chair topple backwards as she leapt to her feet. _Not without a fight,_ she swore. _I’m NOT prey and I will NOT go down easily._

            Marvok’s delighted laugh cut through her thoughts. He was just Marvok again. He was the same goblin who perched on her shoulder every day, who taught her to fight, and who defended her against monsters. “What?” she demanded. “What’s so damn funny?”

            He smiled, “Look down, Champion.”

            Sarah glanced down. She was in one of the fighting stances Marvok himself had taught her. Her Darkblade was manifest and she held it at the ready. She didn’t remember calling it. She looked back up at him. “How?”

            “You were terribly afraid, but you transformed your fear into defiance and called forth the power that you have mastered.” His face showed clear delight. It wasn’t an expression she’d seen on him before. “The experiences that humans call nightmares are pale echoes of the realm that spawns them. The sight of Nightmare itself would drive most people mad. I had to be certain you were ready. Otherwise, I could not risk taking you into that realm, not even in your dreams. But you, Champion, you called on fear to fight itself. I am considered powerful. Even here, in this world of iron and logic, I can call forth the energy of my home plane. Now, I have my answer; Nightmare will not be able to break you.” His ruby eyes flicked to her Darkblade and back to her face. “You have mastered one fear. Tonight, you will craft one of your own.”   

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.  
> Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	8. Blood in the Water

**If I could take your hand/** ****  
If you could understand/  
That I can barely breathe, the air is thin/  
I fear the fall and where we'll land.

**~ from _Beautiful Crime_ by Tamer**

Sarah stood on a blasted, windswept plain of dark ashes and black rock. The smoky air smelled of ozone, sulfur, and hot stone. Burning wind whipped ash into her hair and pulled on her clothes. It sang of loss and despair. _Give up,_ the wind whispered. _All is lost. Hope is fallen._ She looked up at the roiling gray sky. Bolts of crimson lightning arched across it. “So,” she said, “this is the Nightmare Realm.”

            Marvok chuckled. “This is only a small portion of the border between Dream and Nightmare. Most of my homeland is less…friendly. My people have used the Ashen Plains as a training ground for our cubs for a very long time. It is well-suited for our purpose here.”   

            Sarah nodded, grateful that he didn’t feel the need to take her somewhere worse. As it was, she was happy that she wasn’t here in the flesh. She didn’t want to know what kind of scars burning ash would leave. Regardless, compared to Marvok’s fear aura, this place wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. She was in high school, for God’s sake. Despair was not a new emotion for her. “What now?” she asked.

            “Now, you close your eyes. Ignore the wind and focus on yourself. Remember what I taught you.”

            Sarah closed her eyes and entered the trance state she’d spent many dreams mastering. She defined the borders of her dream form, then waited, trusting that Marvok would guide her. His voice was far more compelling than that of the wind. “Feel the blood that flows through your veins. Feel the life flowing to every part of you.”

            She felt it and focused on nothing else, focused only on the blood moving to the rhythm of her heartbeat. “Good,” Marvok whispered. “Your blood is life, but there are shadows of death within it, tendrils of black in a river of red. Do you See them, Champion?”

            Sarah looked, but they were flickers, there and then gone. She tried to catch them as they slipped past. She couldn’t hold them. Sarah grit her teeth. _They are MINE, damn it!_ she raged silently. _I have right to them!_ Marvok said nothing. She was clearly supposed to figure this part out on her own. She paced along the bank, trying to determine a way to catch those black currents.

            _Wait…_ she thought. _That’s it. I can’t catch them. It’s not possible. I can’t catch a river in a net, but I can become the river._ Sarah focused, pushing her consciousness to merge with it. Her mind fought with the currents; neither was willing to yield. Sarah stopped and stared into the torrent. _Time for a leap of faith_ , she decided. She dove in and allowed herself to be swept along by it, allowed herself to flow with it, allowed herself to become fluid and shifting. The river that was Sarah found the darkness within itself.

            A deep voice resonated from everywhere and nowhere. “Call the shadows to a single point. Call them and they will come.” The river felt familiar energy tremble through one portion of itself. _There it is,_ it thought, _the place where the shadows should gather._ It focused its consciousness on that place and called to the black currents. It called to the shadows and felt them answer.

            The shadows clustered together and whispered, “Now you know where the darkness lies. Come back, Sarah. Come back to yourself.”

            Slowly, Sarah pulled free, remembering how it felt to not be a river, remembering how to be herself. She kept her mental fingertips on the shadows as she settled back into her dream form. She could feel them pulsing in the palm of her left hand.

            “Very good,” Marvok said. “In your hand, you hold the blood of nightmares, the essence of an ancient fear. You know its shape and nature. It is part of you, a piece of what you are. It longs for form. Already, it knows what it is meant to be. Call it to its purpose.”

            Oh, yes. Sarah knew what a Darkblade was meant to be. She knew its hunger, its relentless nature, and its mockery. She knew its wicked curve and the shadows that wavered like flames around its dark heart. Sarah gathered everything she knew and everything she felt and sent that knowledge to the shadows in her palm. _“This is what you are meant to be,”_ she told them. _“This is what you are.”_ She felt the shadows twist and writhe. They poured up from her fingertips. She gripped the hilt in her hand and opened her eyes. She held a Darkblade nearly identical to the one she’d been given, but she knew the difference. It was the first blade’s twin perhaps, but not its clone. It was alive and like all living things, it could only be itself.

            Sarah looked at her right hand and called her first blade forth. It came willingly, eager to join its sibling. She stood with the two blades crossed before her chest. The wind whispered despair to her, but she defied it. The nightmares she held close were older and darker. Despair could never defeat them. Pain owned this place, but her eyes shone with fierce joy. She turned towards Marvok. “I did it,” she told him.

            “Indeed,” he said with a smile. “I knew you would.”

  ***JS*JS*JS***

            Anxiety hung in the air like smoke as the Goblin King strode into his formal throne room. The massive crystalline throne shimmered under flickering blue-white torchlight. Distorted black and white lines writhed along the floor. The movement of the two-toned marble was designed to confuse the minds of his more weak-willed petitioners and leave them disoriented, unsettled, and disadvantaged in negotiations. It was a delightful bit of enchantment. 

            The vast chamber’s walls receded into darkness behind the pillars that lined each side of the hall. Jareth saw that a number of his less social subjects had gathered along the walls in addition to his normal courtiers. They were no doubt curious about the timid visitors who bowed low before the throne. Regardless, none of them crept past the pillars to enter the light. That was probably for the best. He wanted these dignitaries uneasy, not gibbering in terror. That would hardly be productive. The excited chittering of his subjects fell to silence upon his entrance, but he was certain the sounds echoing from the darkness had done little to comfort his guests during their wait. He smiled down at those same guests unkindly. Visitors were always such a bother and he currently had other matters to concern himself with. He didn’t know how the more popular courts could bear having outsiders present as a matter of course.

            Jareth rarely entered this hall, preferring the simplicity of the audience chamber for regular use. It had a throne and that was good enough for his Kingdom’s subjects. They were a practical lot and didn’t give a damn where he held Court. He could hold it on the battlements and they would be content. Those who lived in the Labyrinth learned to value actions over appearances quickly or they lived no longer. He was their King. They knew their places. They never needed reminding. Unfortunately, the other Fae courts valued such trifles, so here he stood, dripping in pointless finery, catering to expectations.

            His herald’s voice cut through the silence, “All hail His Royal Majesty, King Jareth, King of the Goblins, and Lord of the Labyrinth!” Before he could continue, Jareth cut off the herald’s voice with a wave. The Goblin King was not a patient man when it came to ceremony and was unwilling to sit through a lengthy recitation of his numerous titles. Everyone bloody well knew who he was. 

            He draped himself across his throne and turned his unnerving, mismatched gaze upon the bowing delegates. For some moments, he just stared at them. It was uncomfortable to hold a formal court bow for more than a few seconds. That was, of course, by design. Sidhe royalty did so love to remind others of their proper places. He was no exception to that. Finally, he waved lazily at the delegates. “Yes. Yes. You may rise.”

            The Emissary of the Singing Forests stepped forward. His eyes flicked nervously from Jareth to the Royal Seneschal who stood slightly behind and to the right of the throne. Jareth smiled. Seneschal Bree’Onne always made visitors nervous. It was one of his more endearing traits. Before the delegate could speak, Jareth decided introductions were in order. “It’s been some time since you were last before my court, Lord Medrin. I don’t believe you’ve ever had the opportunity to meet my Royal Seneschal.”

            Medrin’s eyes went to Bree’Onne and back. “Um…No. I don’t believe I’ve yet had the pleasure, Your Majesty.” Jareth noticed Andris wince at the other delegate’s fumbled words.

            Jareth’s smile was like light glinting off a knife edge. “Well then. I would be a poor host indeed if I didn’t make proper introductions. We can’t have that.” He motioned to the delegates with one gloved hand. “Lord Medrin of the Singing Forests and Lord Andris of the Whispering Mountains, may I present Prince Bree’Onne.”

            Medrin paled as he turned to look at the Seneschal. His voice was little more than a whisper. “Prince?”

            _They never expect that. You would think word would get out eventually_. Jareth smirked at Medrin. “Indeed. Prince Bree’Onne is the eldest grandchild of King Nee’Daan of the Serpentine and the son of the High Princess Maav’Ra. Her Highness was kind enough to lend his talents to my…humble court. The Serpentine have always been such a gracious people. So very loyal.”

            Bree’Onne slipped forward and inclined his head gracefully to the delegates. “A pleasssure to meet you both. I look forward to working with you. Closssely.” Every word dripped with menace.

            Medrin looked so ready to flee by that point that Jareth had to bite back a laugh. Bree’Onne was more than capable of speaking without hissing, but it was so much fun when he didn’t. Most of the High Fae were unreasonably terrified of the Serpentine. Admittedly, the snake goblins were deadly, but so were plenty of his other subjects. Wonderfully enough, Bree’Onne was even more disturbing than most of his kind because he was half-Sidhe. The familiar features made his Serpentine qualities stand out all the more unnervingly by contrast.  

            Bree’Onne inclined his head politely, awaiting a response. Medrin stood in frozen silence. Before the old delegate could make a greater mess of the situation, Lord Andris stepped forward with a bow. The young lord was dressed simply. He wore the charcoal colors of his kingdom from head to toe, accented with only a touch of silver at the cuffs and collar of his tunic. His dark hair was pulled back neatly from his face. Though the fabrics he wore were rich and the craftsmanship exquisite, he wore no jewelry save for his ring of office. The entire outfit spoke of humility, restraint, and quiet power. It was most well-chosen for a delegate seeking aid from a neighboring nation. The contrast between his understated grace and Medrin’s ostentatious gold and green ensemble was striking.

            Andris spoke in a clear, resonant voice. “It is wonderful to make your acquaintance, Your Highness. I have had few opportunities to work with the Serpentine and look forward to the experience. We appreciate that we were granted an audience on such short notice.” Jareth could taste his fear, but there wasn’t a trace of it in his stance or on his face. The Goblin King examined the young Sidhe. He’d never met the boy personally before, but he’d heard of the outrage expressed by some of the higher nobles of the Whispering Mountains when Andris was elevated to the position of Royal Emissary above those who’d been waiting centuries for a chance at the title. King Callin chose the one best suited for the position, not the one with the oldest title or bluest blood. _A ruler after my own heart_ , Jareth thought.     

            Jareth caught the boy’s eyes and gave a slight nod. “You are…most welcome. Now, what trouble brings you here to my little court?”

            Andris’s discomfort was palatable. Delegates never knew how to respond to Jareth’s insistence on downplaying the importance of his vast kingdom. One couldn’t correct a king, but the idea of calling the ancient and powerful realm by humble terms unsettled them. _As though they fear the Labyrinth itself will take offense,_ he mused. _They really shouldn’t be so…skittish._ After all, the Labyrinth hadn’t devoured a visiting noble in centuries. Besides, the last one had certainly deserved it.

            Despite his unease, Andris spoke calmly. “A great beast has come forth from the mist, dragon-like, but made of living darkness. It attacks villages, slaughters citizens, and destroys fields before retreating. Despite the combined efforts of both of our realms, we have been unable to bring it down before it vanishes back from whence it came. With each attack, the mist advances. Our commoners are losing land that they need to survive. Under the Treaty of the Broken Year, we are forbidden to track it back to its lair to dispatch it. High King Oberon has been notified and is seeking intervention from the Darkling Courts, but diplomacy with the Unseelie proceeds…slowly. We fear that there will be little left to preserve of the borderlands by the time a resolution is reached. We seek Your Majesty’s aid in resolving this matter and halting the onslaught.”

            Jareth nodded. It was clearly a ploy by the Unseelie to twist the Seelie’s own portion of the Treaty against them. He already knew of the situation. However, Jareth was pleasantly surprised at the young lord’s simple honesty. The boy did not attempt to hide the nature of the threat or his own realm’s helplessness to defend against it. _How refreshing._

            Jareth brought one gloved hand up to hold his chin, his index finger tapping above his lips as though considering the situation. Finally he spoke, “As I am not bound by the Treaty and serve neither the Seelie nor the Unseelie, I am the **_only_** one capable of acting on your behalf. Such a pity.” Despite his training, Andris flinched at the Goblin King’s words. Jareth flashed a smile and swung around to face the delegate directly. He summoned a crystal to his fingertips and watched it dance along the back of his hands as he spoke. “Before I agree to lend my assistance, I must ask what your realms offer in return for such a **_valuable_** favor.”

            Before Andris could speak, Lord Medrin answered. “Their Royal Majesties, the King and Queen of the Singing Forests, are prepared to offer you the hand of their youngest daughter in exchange. The Princess Ellana is of noted beauty and grace. Already, she has shown vast magical potential which will surely pass to any children she bears. She has only recently come of age to wed and, as of yet, remains untouched.”

            Offended rage flashed through Jareth’s eyes like lightning. The crystal vanished from his fingers as he leveled his blistering gaze on the unfortunate lord. The princess was only old enough to marry under the most ancient of Seelie laws. Few Sidhe would consider her to be of adequate age for marriage for at least a century, himself included. Certainly, the princess’s hand in marriage would be of high value to most courts. The royal line of the Singing Forests was noted for unusual fertility among the Sidhe. Her two older sisters had bought their homeland valuable trade alliances with their wedding vows. However, they’d been far older than her when they married. The mere thought of taking some weeping child-bride revolted him.         

            Jareth’s voice was cold, “I think not, Lord Medrin. While your monarchs make a most generous offer, I have no intention of forcing a terrified girl to be a prisoner in my Labyrinth, let alone to unwillingly bear my offspring for the good of her land. I am a cruel man, but I do not brutalize children. I will grant each of you the use of a communication crystal so that you might consult with your homelands and make another offer. Do not attempt to offer me living people as payment again.”

            Jareth motioned to a servant and commanded him to show the shocked delegates to their quarters. Before they could react, Jareth vanished from the throne room. His voice echoed though the chamber though he, himself, was absent. “You have until morning. Choose wisely.”     

***JS*JS*JS***

            A brief time later, Bree’Onne made his way to the King’s office. He had dismissed the servant, and then seen the delegates to their quarters personally. The King hadn’t been quite himself since that mortal became Champion of the Labyrinth. Bree’Onne didn’t want these fools causing His Majesty more upset than they already had.

            They were terrified of him, which was only to be expected. Admittedly, the young one hid it rather well. As Seneschal, he had offered them a bit of advice. He knew that His Majesty wanted to offer assistance in the matter in order to preserve the balance between the Seelie and Unseelie. Another war would profit no one. However, the Goblin King’s aid could never come without a proper price. Such were the rules that defined their realm’s neutrality. They were no one’s enemy and no one’s ally.

            Medrin had been visibly suspicious of Bree’Onne, while Andris had been appreciative of the insight. Bree’Onne had done what he could; the rest was up to them. _Now, let’s hope that they’re clever enough not to damn themselves._

            He glided with liquid grace down the mirror-covered hallway leading towards the royal wing. Servants bowed low as he passed by, and then sighed their relief when he ignored them. Bree’Onne caught sight of his reflection in one of the mirrors and smiled, fangs flashing. His appearance was deeply upsetting to most Sidhe and it delighted both his King and himself. _Those who think themselves above all others still fear what slithers in the dark,_ he thought. _Well…except for His Majesty_.

            If the King feared anything, Bree’Onne was unaware of it. He would rather not know of the existence of a thing that could frighten the Lord of the Labyrinth. He suspected that the horror of such a thing would kill him outright. Bree’Onne, like all of his kind, was a trained assassin and had little fear of death, but he would never allow himself to disappoint his King or disgrace his family.

            Before he could raise his hand to knock upon the door, the King bid him, “Enter.” Bree’Onne slipped in and sealed the door behind him. Jareth’s voice was mocking. “I take it that you felt the delegates required guidance, then? Didn’t believe they could make an offer without giving further offense?”

            Bree’Onne simply nodded, refusing to be baited by his temperamental monarch. “Just so, Your Majesty. Lord Andris is clever, but lacks experience in such matters, and Lord Medrin is a pompous fool who should never have been given his position at all. Being the younger brother of his queen hardly qualifies him as an emissary.”

            Jareth stared at him coldly. A crystal orb glided along his fingertips as he pretended to contemplate his Seneschal’s actions. Finally, he sighed. “I can’t claim to fault your logic, though I don’t recall granting you a position as a diplomat.”

            Bree’Onne smiled without showing his teeth. He bowed his head to his King. “I am, as always, whatever Your Majesty requires me to be.”

            The Goblin King chuckled and turned his attention to the governance of his kingdom. There was always more to be done.

***JS*JS*JS***

            Many hours after meeting with his unfortunate visitors, Jareth entered his private chambers. The delegates and their request still weighed on his mind. It would be so much simpler if he could just name an appropriate price and be done with it. It would prevent the fools from bringing him offenses as though they were gifts. To offer him, the protector of unwanted mortal children, a child as payment… _What could they possibly be thinking?_ he wondered. _Or was this affront just arrogance on their part?_ All amongst the nobility knew that Jareth had received countless marriage offers over the ages and that he had considered none of them. Did they simply believe that their princess was so very special that he would turn his world to have her? Only one female had ever inspired that sort of emotion from him and she was lost to the mortal realm.

            Against Jareth’s will, he pictured her face, green eyes flashing defiance. _Sarah_. Her accursed words had destroyed his ability to touch her with his power. He could no longer see her in his crystals or magically transport himself to her location. He couldn’t even enter her dreams.  To gaze upon her now, he had to travel the long way to the mortal realm and locate her in the flesh. He hadn’t allowed himself that luxury since the night of her departure from his Labyrinth. On that night, he had taken his owl form and watched her victory celebration from outside of her window. It would be too easy to fall into the habit of following her. He couldn’t permit himself such a distraction. There was too much to be done, too many questions to be answered.

            If only those damned words had severed Jareth’s connection to her entirely, he would be able to mourn the loss and move on. Such a thing was not to be. Even now, if he focused on her, he could feel her emotions through their bond. It was worse than having nothing. Far worse. The feelings had no context. **Fear.** _Was she in danger? Did she require his aid?_ **Desire.** _What man inspired her longing? Who had dared to succeed where he had failed?_ **Joy.** _Had she forgotten his realm entirely? Had she truly felt nothing for his Labyrinth?_ Whatever her emotions, he never knew their cause and it was maddening. All he knew for certain was that she yet lived. _Alive,_ he mused, _but still haunting me._

            Jareth paced the room. He knew that he shouldn’t have pressed for her affections when he did, but he hadn’t been able to resist. He wouldn’t have touched her then, she was still a child, but he would have gladly played her chaste love for however long was needful if she would only have given him the chance. What was time to him? He would have won her love and trust eventually. But in his desperation, he pushed too hard, and now she was lost to him.

            The Goblin King crossed to the balcony and stared out at his Labyrinth, trying to find some measure of comfort in his beloved land. He had been shocked to find the twin to his soul in a human girl and was terrified at how vulnerable she was, how fragile. Losing her was the only thing he’d ever feared in all of his long existence. He was tormented by the thought of watching her flame snuffed out because of the weakness of her mortality. He’d been frantic for her to stay with him so that he could protect her. He would have given her immortality, power, whatever she wanted. His gloved hands clinched on the balcony’s railing. _If only she had stayed_.

            With a growl, he returned to his pacing. Even amongst the Fae, finding one’s other-self was rare. It was a sacred event, the will of Danu, so allowances were always made when it happened. Depending on the exact nature of the bond, marriages could be dissolved, oaths could be severed. The most ancient laws of the Fae forbade keeping bondmates apart. Who could have ever imagined that one half of a bond would reject and abandon the other? Of course, no one would ever have imagined that a Sidhe king could be bound to a delicate mortal girl either.

            Jareth had spent every free moment since she left searching for answers. He needed to find a way around her spell so that he could reach out to her. She had to return. He was certain that he could earn her favor if given the chance. Besides, even if she wanted nothing to do with him personally, he had to keep her safe. _Surely,_ he thought, _she’d listen to reason if she knew what was at stake._

            If he couldn’t find a way to convince her to return, he knew that he had to find a way to sever the bond. The thought repulsed him, it was heresy, but there was no choice. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her forever, but he was a king and duty came first. A bonded soul very rarely survived the death of their other-self. Jareth had no heir. He couldn’t abandon his people because he was tied to a mortal lifespan. Even so, he hadn’t actually looked for a method to sever the bond. Not yet. He still hoped to find another way.

            Jareth’s library was vast, and through the Labyrinth, he had access to even greater reservoirs of knowledge. Despite this, he had found nothing to help him. The geas Sarah cast wasn’t normal magic. Of course, if it had been a normal geas, Jareth wouldn’t need to research how to break it. No other living Sidhe could match him for magical power. It was strangely potent, fueled by her victory over the Labyrinth’s Challenge.

            Jareth was growing more desperate by the day. His own research was going nowhere and the Labyrinth refused to speak of Sarah or the binding she had left on him. He hadn’t dared to let anyone know about the bond, lest Sarah become a target for his enemies. He’d known for weeks that if he didn’t find some answers soon, he would have no choice but to seek outside aid.

            He stared at the ancient tomes covering his desk and sighed. _It’s time,_ he decided. _All of my research and I have found nothing._ _I’ll have to ask Titania for her guidance_. The High Queen of the Seelie knew more about the soul bond than anyone else alive. More importantly, he could trust her. While he was only her stepson by birth, she’d had half of his raising and loved him as dearly as her own blood.

            Decision made, Jareth stopped pacing. If nothing else, he was certain that Titania could offer him some insight on where to look for the knowledge he sought. He would visit her as soon as he finished dealing with his current guests.

            Jareth draped himself across a padded leather chair and idly summoned a crystal. The familiar movements were always soothing. He was done thinking about the delegates. Part of him wanted to leave their kingdoms to rot for the insult they’d offered him. He frowned. _I suppose that I shouldn’t let a war break out over my ego_. Jareth sighed and settled deeper into the chair. Against his better judgment, he pictured Sarah’s face in his mind and reached out to feel her emotions. He got back only the peaceful lull of dreamless sleep. _Blessedly safe, for the moment at least,_ he thought.

            Before Jareth could close the connection, Sarah’s consciousness was ripped from her body. His couldn’t draw breath to scream. He tried to understand what was happening. While her body was still in the mortal realm, he knew that her soul was not. He caught flashes of her vision, images of a dark, blasted landscape and a gray sky filled with crimson lightning. He didn’t recognize the place, but he knew it wasn’t the Underground. _Where are you, Sarah?_ he wondered. _Who has done this to you?_ Jareth had never been more afraid.

            He reached for his connection to the Labyrinth. _“Please,”_ he begged Her. _“You have to save Sarah. Even if you tell me nothing, even if you won’t break her spell, she’s still your Champion! She’s just a mortal girl and no mortal could have done this to her.”_

            Jareth felt a pulse of regret from the Labyrinth. **_“I’m sorry, my King. I know how this separation pains you, but my Champion is in no danger. She doesn’t require my aid.”_**

            Jareth was dumbfounded. _“Her soul has been pulled from the mortal realm! What is that, if not an attack?”_

            **_“And what does she feel, my King? Is she afraid?”_** The Labyrinth’s tone was gentle.

            Jareth blinked. He turned his attention to Sarah’s emotions. He sensed grim determination and intense focus. Whatever Sarah was doing, she was thinking of nothing but the task at hand. After a time, he felt a surge of triumph, pride, and fierce joy. Then, her emotions returned to a lull as her soul settled back into her physical form.

            Jareth shook his head. None of this made any sense. He asked the Labyrinth, _“What, exactly, just occurred?”_ There was no response.

            Jareth hurled the crystal at his wall with a snarl. It shattered into a rain of glittering shards before vanishing. Enough was enough. If the Labyrinth would give him no answers, he’d damn well get them for himself. He might not be able to interact with Sarah directly, but others had no such limitation. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned another crystal. As soon as his Seneschal’s face appeared within the orb, Jareth sent his voice through it. “Bree’Onne, report to my quarters at once. I have a task for you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.  
> Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	9. Changes Come

**Wake up, son of mine/**

**Momma got something to tell you/**

**Changes come/**

**Life will have its way/**

**With your pride, son.**

**~ from _Momma Sed_ by Puscifer**

            Bree’Onne hid in the shadows cast by the strand of large maple trees across the street from the Champion’s home. He knew that his invisibility spell should prevent anyone from spotting him, but a lifetime of instinct, training, and habit could not simply be set aside. From the current reports he had studied about the mortal world, he knew that a human of the Champion’s age would be at an institution of learning during the greater part of the day. As Bree’Onne had no idea where such a place would be located, he had decided that the most convenient course would be to remain near her dwelling and wait for her return.

            It was late afternoon when she finally appeared. She looked different from when she Challenged the Labyrinth. She was a bit taller now, and womanly curves graced her frame. The change was startling. _Humans mature at a much faster rate than Fae,_ he reminded himself. _The Champion is a human adolescent. This is likely normal development for one of her kind._ Bree’Onne shook his head. Regardless, the transition was unnerving. It would take decades for a Sidhe maiden to change that much, but less than half a year had passed in this realm since the girl faced the Labyrinth.       

            After the Champion entered into her dwelling, Bree’Onne crept up to her house and slipped around to the back. He’d determined which chamber was hers earlier in the day. Thankfully, a large oak tree with broad branches grew near her window. It would make his job much easier than it would be otherwise. _His Majesty is wise to want to return the Champion back to the Underground,_ he thought. _To have a tree like that right next to a young noblewoman’s window? You might as well hang a sign welcoming any spies or assassins in need of a convenient point of entry._

            Bree’Onne sighed and started to climb. When he became Seneschal, he’d believed that his days of spying on young noblewomen were behind him. _Ah, well,_ he thought. _It’s not as though I don’t have experience._ His people were often employed for such tasks. They might be assassins by trade, but they were hired as simple spies more often than not. Amongst the Underground races, only the gargoyles were better suited to waiting and watching, silent and still.

            Bree’Onne slipped out onto the branch closest to her window and listened. Lady Sarah was discussing which gown she should wear to dinner with her maidservant. It was a repetition of a conversation he’d heard hundreds of times. _By the Labyrinth, these maidens are all so dull,_ he lamented. On those other occasions he’d at least been able to eavesdrop from a comfortable position, not while perched in some tree outside of a sad, human dwelling.

            “It’s just not fair, Essana,” the Champion complained. Her voice had the same spoiled, petulant tone that he remembered well from her Challenge. “Mother had her seamstress make Toby an entire new suit of clothes this month, but she says we’ll have to re-dye my blue evening frock and take up the skirts. Does she _want_ me to be a laughingstock?”

            He heard fabric rustling, people moving about in a small space, the soft murmur of feminine voices. The Champion’s angry words cut through, “Marcella! What _are_ you doing to my hair? Marigolds? Don’t you know they mean jealousy, stupid girl? If it must be orange to go with the gold silk, then go ask the gardener for daylilies.”

            He heard a quiet, “Yes, milady,” and the sound of hurrying footsteps. A door opened and shut.  

            Bree’Onne froze. While she was actually a noblewoman, Lady Sarah was currently living as a human commoner. He’d seen no sign of a kitchen garden, much less a formal one, and certainly no trace of a gardener. She wouldn’t have a maidservant or a chambermaid. Human commoners didn’t wear gowns to dinner. The voices inside the room fell to silence.

            Bree’Onne pulled back and shifted his senses. The magic was translucent, nearly invisible. It spread across the wall like the finest of spider webs. If he hadn’t already known that the spell was there, he would never have spotted it. _By the Bog,_ he thought to himself, _who cast this?_ In his line of work, and at Court, one regularly encountered privacy spells. He’d seen thousands of them. None even came close to matching this. It was a masterpiece of dazzling complexity. It was designed to hide itself, and then hide the fact that it was hiding itself. He studied the spell intently. Most privacy spells simply prevented sound from escaping the room. More elaborate versions created false sounds, scents, and even images that were set in advance by the caster to play out in accordance with time of day, or to be triggered in response to other factors. This spell pulled its illusions from the unconscious thoughts of the listener so that they would hear only the ordinary and uninteresting sounds of daily routine that they expected. He’d never seen its like.

            Bree’Onne realized that the Goblin King had been right to worry about the Champion. Whoever crafted this magic possessed staggering skill. No mortal magic user could have created it. They simply didn’t live long enough to master this level of power. An immortal had cast the spell, which meant that an immortal was showing a great deal of interest in Lady Sarah. _To what ends?_ Bree’Onne wondered. He leaned forward, studying the design, careful not to touch the magic. The master who created this spell could certainly have woven any number of traps into the fabric of it.

            Bree’Onne mentally reviewed the Goblin King’s bolder rivals, pondering which of them could have created this. None came to mind. Whoever it was, they were unknown to him. His Majesty was not going to be pleased.

***JS*JS*JS***

            Sarah danced up the stairs to her room. She’d been humming the entire walk home, and now, in the privacy of her empty house, she started singing. “Put on your red shoes and dance the blues…” She plopped her backpack onto her bed and changed into workout clothes. She hadn’t been in this good of a mood since…well…since her parents separated, now that she thought about it.

            She’d done it. She, Sarah Williams, had crafted a Darkblade. Now, if she focused, she could feel the power of both blades pulsing through her veins. It was glorious. Empowering. Nothing high school could throw at her could take that feeling away.

            Sarah was putting on her running shoes when Marvok spoke. “Champion, there is a Fae spy perched in the tree outside of your window. He cannot hear us, but he has discovered the privacy spell.”

            She looked up at Marvok. “Can he break it?”

            Marvok shook his head, “No. He does not have that kind of skill. Honestly, I am surprised he was able to detect it.”

            _A spy outside my window,_ Sarah mused, _how odd._ The knowledge should probably have been more upsetting. Apparently, even Fae spies couldn’t bring her down right now. “What kind of Fae is he?”

            “Serpentine,” Marvok replied. At her confused expression, he explained. “They are a race of snake goblins who work as assassins. However, I sense no malicious intent towards you. He was most likely sent here by the Goblin King to gather information. To know more, you will have to ask him.”

            Sarah blinked. _That certainly raises some questions._ After a moment, she asked, “Are you telling me that there is an entire _species_ of goblins that work as assassins?”

            Marvok shrugged. “Technically, there are two. However, my own people are only called on when someone is truly desperate. Most would far rather work with the Serpentine.”

            Sarah remembered that night with The Unhallowed. She’d never asked why the horrible creatures called her goblins by that term. _So all shadow goblins are assassins, not just my three,_ she realized. _Of course they are. What else would they be? God knows, they have the right skill set._ She tried to think of something useful to say. Finally, she asked, “Why do people prefer to work with the snake goblins?”  

            Marvok flashed a wicked grin. “The Serpentine can be hired the same way that one can hire a carpenter, or a cobbler, or a stonemason. You negotiate a price and strike a deal. Unless you fail to uphold your end of the bargain, there is no real risk in contracting them. They are almost entirely Fae.”

            Sarah considered this. “And shadow goblins are more Nightmare than Fae. It’s not so easy to hire one of you, is it?”

            Still grinning, Marvok shook his head. His ruby eyes glowed brighter and menace poured off of him in waves. “No. It is not. If a person wishes to call on us, we must be summoned. Summonings are dangerous. A single mistake and…well, let us say that the risk is very real.”

            A chill went up Sarah’s spine. Marvok was damn scary when he wanted to be. She glared at him. “Stop doing your creepy monster thing at me. You’re supposed to keep the bad things away, not act like one of them.”   

            He laughed. His aura settled back to its usual state. Then, he shifted forward onto his fore claws in a feline bow, his wings flaring out behind him. “My apologies, Champion.”

            She rolled her eyes at him and smiled. “You’re forgiven…this time. Now, about this spy, why would the Goblin King need to send someone to collect information on me? I mean, he’s the Goblin King, he has magic. Besides, why would he give a damn?”

            Marvok arched a brow at her. “We have already covered this. Your final words to him bound him from using magic on you without your permission. He cannot use his powers to see you. As to why he would care, he has no choice. You are the Champion of the Labyrinth. You are a noblewoman of his nation. By Fae law, you are underage and have no family to shield you. That makes your well-being the responsibility of the crown. I suspect that he has learned of the attempts on you and…”

            Sarah cut him off. “Wait. Attempts? More things have come after me than The Unhallowed?”

            She had never seen Marvok look sheepish before. Azu and Nessos snickered. Marvok looked away from her. “The Unhallowed have unusual abilities and they came in numbers, so we needed you to issue challenge. If you had not, a few might have escaped us and returned to report to their master. A challenge has not been necessary to rid ourselves of any of the other would-be attackers.”

            Sarah stared at him, “How many? How many attacks have there been that I didn’t know about?”

            Marvok sighed. “Five.” He held up one fore claw, “Before you ask, we did not tell you because you have already been under enough strain. Your training is coming along well, but you were not ready to face actual attackers.”

            Sarah glared down at him. “Oh, I see. Just because I’m a ‘mere’ human that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t at least attempt to defend myself. Humans aren’t helpless, you know! We’ve had some great warriors! Or don’t you know that Sir Gawain defeated the Green Knight of the Sidhe? Or how Janet, who was a year younger than me, by the way, rescued Tamlin from some fairy queen with no training at all? I might not be ready to stand on my own, but I’m not going to sit back while you guard me like some useless princess in her tower!”

            Marvok flipped his long tail up and pressed it across her lips as though to say “Hush.” “This is not because you are human, even amongst my own people, a cub is not allowed to hunt until they have crafted a Darkblade. Further, between your training and your mortal obligations, you have been exhausted. The knowledge would not have benefited you.”

            Sarah shook her head. _He’s right,_ she realized. _Knowing wouldn’t have helped. It would only have distracted me from what’s really important._ It still pissed her off though. She sighed. “Fine. I understand why you didn’t tell me, but I’m not happy about it. I want to know when something happens from now on.” She met his gaze. “Deal?”

            Marvok nodded. “Very well. I agree to your terms if you give me your word that you will accept my judgment when I say whether or not you will personally face an attacker. You are still my student and I expect you to respect my decision.”

            Sarah nodded. As much as she wanted to argue, she really didn’t want to know what sort of creatures Marvok was worried about her seeing. _After all, he thought that hellscape I visited was friendly._ “I agree to your terms. I know that there are things I’m not ready to face yet.” 

            Sarah put on her second shoe and turned back to the black goblin. “Okay. I guess I’m ready. How do we go about confronting this spy?”

            Marvok smiled as he leaned forward to outline his plan.

***JS*JS*JS***

            The Champion left her home just over an hour after arriving. Bree’Onne followed her. She had changed into a set of scandalously tight, black garments. Her arms were bare, but the rest of her skin, from neck to ankles, was sheathed in an ebony second skin. He could see every curve, every muscle. Even when training with his own species, who cared less than most about such things, Bree’Onne had never seen any female garbed in such a manner. _Courtesans leave more to the imagination with their scarves and veils!_ he thought. _And those tights…she could give the younger male Sidhe of the Court fair competition._

            Once Bree’Onne recovered from his shock at her wardrobe, he noticed the changes to her carriage. In the Labyrinth, she’d moved like a skittish filly, all energy and awkward limbs. Now, she moved with fluid grace, with a predatory edge to it, a spare economy of motion. If he’d seen a young maiden in the Underground stalk in such manner, he would assume her to be an apprentice to the Ladovran Sisterhood. The small, all-female guild preferred to select beautiful, delicate-looking maidens as apprentices.

            The Champion had yet to develop the control of a fully trained assassin, but the evidence of her tutelage was undeniable. _Someone of rare skill is teaching the girl,_ he realized, _and teaching her well._ Bree’Onne suspected that it was the same someone who’d crafted the exquisite privacy spell shielding her quarters. All of which surely meant that an immortal master of the craft had chosen her as an apprentice.

            _But why?_ he wondered. _Why would a Grandmaster Assassin come all the way to this realm to choose a mortal as an apprentice? There’s certainly no shortage of viable candidates in the Underground._ A horrid idea occurred to him then, _What if her teacher is an exile?_ The thought was chilling. _For one of that skill level to be exiled, their crimes would’ve had to be great indeed._

            Thoughts reeling with terrible possibilities, Bree’Onne followed the girl to a nearby park and into a large stand of trees. When he reached the shrouded clearing at its center, she was already facing his direction. He could tell that she didn’t actually see him; her eyes scanned the area around him, but never lingered anywhere. However, it was obvious that she knew he was present.

            For the first time since he came to this realm, he saw her face clearly. Her eyes seemed slightly larger and of a brighter hue; her cheekbones were higher; her features more chiseled; the freckles that had previously littered her nose and cheeks were fading away. _By the gods,_ he realized, _she’s ascended._

            He’d kept his sense of smell locked down since his arrival. The decay scent of the mortal realm was sickening. Amongst the Serpentine, their combined sense of taste and smell was, by far, the strongest sense they possessed. Now, he tasted the air with the long forks of his tongue and confirmed the truth his sight was telling him: Lady Sarah was no longer fully human, nor fully mortal. She was _changing_. A second taste brought with it a warning. _“Don’t bite! Not prey! Poison!”_ his instincts screamed. He could taste his death swimming in her blood. _How?_ he wondered. _What has been done to you?_   

            Sarah’s resonant voice cut off any further thought. “By right of conquest, I am Lady Sarah the Defiant, Champion of the Labyrinth, and I command you to reveal yourself!”

            Her rank was higher than his own and she was apparently aware of that. He had no choice but to obey. Bree’Onne dropped his invisibility spell and bowed. “Greetings, Champion.”

            Her gaze passed over him, curious, but with no trace of fear, before settling on his face. “And whom,” she asked, “might you be?”

            “I am Bree’Onne, Royal Seneschal to the Goblin King,” he replied.

            She cocked her head to one side, her not-quite-human eyes studying him. “I see. And why are you spying on me?”

            Bree’Onne was unaccustomed to this level of directness from anyone but his King. The Sidhe, in general, favored subtlety. Finally, he said, “His Majesty became aware of an attack on you last night. I was sent to see to your well-being.” That seemed sufficiently innocuous.

            Confusion flashed across her face. “Last night? There was no attack last night.” She paused, “Wait. Time passes differently in the Underground… Do you know when the attack occurred in this realm?”

            He stared at her. _Could she be unaware of what happened?_ he wondered. _She seems unexpectedly aware of everything else. Ah, well. Only one way to find out._ “Last night, in this world, your soul was pulled from your physical form and sent to another realm.”

            Her eyes widened with understanding. “Oh! That!” she scoffed, “That wasn’t an attack.”

            By this point, Bree’Onne was well and truly bewildered. “You’re saying that you knew that your soul was sent to some hell-realm, yet you’re telling me that you weren’t in any danger?”

            Sarah paused, considering. “Well, no. I’m saying that it wasn’t an attack. I agreed to go. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I wasn’t in any danger. I find it unlikely that a trip like that could ever be completely safe for someone not a native of that ‘hell-realm’, as you put it. It was…necessary. An acceptable risk.”

            Bree’Onne had no idea how to respond. She had undergone an ordeal that should have left her mind in tatters, yet here she stood, seemingly unfazed. _She agreed to it?_ he thought. _For what possible cause could such a trip be necessary?_

            Before he formulated a response, Sarah asked him, “Why now? Out of all the times that I’ve survived actual attempts to kill me, why are you coming to check on my well-being now?”

            Icy dread gripped him at her words, “Attempts? You’ve been attacked? More than once?”

            Sarah nodded. “Since my ascension, there have been six attempts made.” She smiled sweetly and stretched out her hands. “As you can see, I’m still here.” Her eyes flashed with defiance. “They’re not.”

            Bree’Onne struggled to decide which question to ask first. Finally, he asked, “How? How were you able to defeat your attackers?”

            She shrugged, “My guardians killed them, as ordered.” Her voice held no emotion.

            “Guardians?” he asked.

            Sarah looked at him curiously. “Of course. As Champion, I was granted three guardians by the ancient laws. They defend me and have agreed to see to my training.”

            Bree’Onne had never reviewed the ancient laws concerning Champions of the Labyrinth. There had never been a need. Until Sarah arrived, Jareth had been the only Champion in history. “Of course,” he said. “Do you happen to know which of the Goblin King’s enemies orchestrated the attacks on you?”

            She tilted her head, her voice was snide, “What does the King have to do with anything?” Realization dawned in her eyes and she laughed. “Oh. You’re under the impression that any of this was about him.”

            Bree’Onne nodded. “Why _else_ would you be attacked?”

            Sarah tilted her head and studied him, a wry smile quirking her lips. She closed her eyes. He felt power wash over him like cold flames, burning and chilling him at once. Then she looked back at him with a raised brow.   

            The ice in his chest grew denser. “Your magic…” he whispered. “They’re trying to steal it.”

            Sarah nodded and gave him a resigned smile. “Got it in one.” Her voice turned angry, “Unfortunately for them, I’m not willing to be ripped apart for their amusement, and I’m far less helpless than they seem to believe.”

            In that moment, Bree’Onne’s admiration for her grew. “You live under the constant threat of assassination, so you’re training to be an assassin yourself.”

            Sarah froze, her mouth twisted with uncertainty. Finally, she sighed. “Yes. I suppose that I am.”

            She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with emerald fire. Her voice dropped low and menacing. “I am NOT prey. I refuse to be treated as such. They. Will. Learn.”

            Bree’Onne resisted the urge to take a step back. The Champion was no longer merely the willful child who’d managed to defeat the Labyrinth’s Challenge. She had become _more_.

            Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, the green flames were hidden once again. “Anything else before you return to the Underground?”

            Bree’Onne nodded, hands outstretched. “Champion, I implore you; please return to the Labyrinth with me. You’ll be safe there. You’re high nobility; the King will see to your protection. You’ll have every comfort.”

            Pain and longing crossed Sarah’s face. “I want to,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I want to go home so badly.”

            Bree’Onne waited, the moment was fragile. He knew that any pressure put on her now would only cause her to push back. He watched her tremble with indecision.

            Sarah took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She looked up at him, “Not now. By the laws of the Underground, I’m still a child. While the Goblin King seems to have forgotten this detail, my parents are still living. They would have to agree to it, on my behalf.”

            Bree’Onne had forgotten about her human family. “Is it so difficult to ask them, then? Would they not want their child to be safe and happy? Won’t you at least speak to them? I am happy to offer my aid in this matter.”

            Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think I am unaware of the fact that mortals who learn of the Fae become subject to our laws? If I make this decision, I will be putting my own kin in danger from any who would use them against me.”

            Bree’Onne felt her slipping from his grasp and struggled to reclaim his hold. He countered, “With your knowledge of the Elder Law you must be aware that the parents of the noble Champion would be welcome at our Court. All of you would be safe there under His Majesty’s protection. Wouldn’t that be best?”

            Sarah looked down, indecision creasing her features. She fisted her hands at her sides. After a moment, she looked up and shook her head, regret clear in her eyes. “No. I won’t drag them into a world they’d hate just for my convenience. I know too well how it feels to be trapped in a place that you don’t belong. I’ll be sixteen come Halloween. That’s the age of majority for humans by Fae law. That’s not long at all. Ask me again after that.”

            Before Bree’Onne could argue, she held up a hand. “I know that I’m no longer entirely human, but I still age like one. Regardless of what I might become, I’m still more human than anything else at this point. The laws apply.” She paused, meeting his gaze. “You’ve asked me three times and three times I’ve refused. Not now. Not yet.”

            Bree’Onne flinched. She had learned far more than any of them could have guessed. Thrice asked and thrice answered, he had no right to ask again.

            Sarah gave him a half smile. “If this is all _truly_ about my well-being, if you really want to help me keep myself safe, bring me books.”

            He paused, “Books, Champion?”

            Sarah nodded. “The power that I received from the Labyrinth is similar to Sidhe magic. At least, it’s more like Sidhe magic than anything else. My guardians can’t train me fully in its use. I need primers that a young Sidhe would study while learning basic spells. Not the mental conditioning exercises, the actual techniques for manipulating energy and shaping spells.” She paused. “I could also benefit from anything that gives an overview of basic information about the Underground: politics, history, etiquette. Things like that. If I’m going to return home, I should be as prepared possible.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “Will you please get them for me? It would mean more to me than you know.”

            Bree’Onne found himself wanting to please her. He wanted her to think of him as a friend. _What is she doing to me? Is this how she bewitched the Labyrinth Guardians who aided her?_ He found himself nodding. “I will try. I can do nothing without His Majesty’s approval, but I will do my best to get them to you.”

            Sarah smiled at him. It was like the sun appearing from behind storm clouds. “I appreciate your kindness, Bree’Onne. Please send my regards to His Majesty, and my appreciation for his concern. I know that I was a…difficult guest when last we met.”

            Bree’Onne bowed. “As you wish, my Lady. By your leave?”

            She nodded. “Granted. Safe journey, Bree’Onne. Until next we meet.”

            He turned and departed the clearing, his head buzzing with a swarm of thoughts. He knew that he would do what he could to get her the books she requested. Now, he just had to determine the best way to explain everything he had discovered to the King. _She didn’t say she wouldn’t return,_ he reminded himself. _She said, “Not now. Not yet.” She clearly desires to return. I should focus on that when I speak to him._

***JS*JS*JS***

            As soon as Marvok assured her that Bree’Onne was truly gone, Sarah walked numbly to the edge of the clearing, crumpled against the nearest tree trunk, and slid to the ground. After a moment she asked, “Next time it’s necessary for me to be tortured for the sake of my education, could we just go back to the Nightmare Realm instead? That was awful. I was completely out of my depth.” She understood that she was whining; she could hear the petulant tone creeping into her voice. She knew that she was risking a stinging zap of the energy her goblins used to correct any mistake she made more than once. The zap she had coming for this lapse would break her longest streak to date of “hours without getting zapped” since her training first began. However, she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

            Marvok chuckled as he crouched in front of her. He was in his humanoid form, so even in a crouch he loomed over her. “I have no idea why you are so distressed, Champion. You performed splendidly. The King’s agent will report the exact information we want him to. You bought yourself time before they will expect a decision regarding your relocation to the Underground. Further, I suspect you will get the books that you require without us stealing them from the Royal Library. It was a victory, by any definition.”

            Sarah rolled her eyes. “Yeah. And if I’d had to figure out what to say on my own, it would have been an unmitigated disaster. It only went well because I had you in my head, telling me what to say.”

            Marvok shrugged and flashed her a wry grin. “Perhaps. Telepathy does have its advantages. However, you forget that all actresses are expected to speak the lines they are given. It does not lessen the value of the performance. Further, not all of the words were mine. Your own additions were important. Your own words were what won the respect of the Seneschal.”

            Sarah pouted at him. _Whatever Marvok thinks, that was nothing like being on stage,_ she thought. She had been in such a good mood earlier, now she was just empty. “I guess,” she said.    

            Marvok tilted his head and arched one brow. “Not to worry. I am certain that running will help your attitude.”

            Her eyes went wide. “We’re still training today? After all of that?”

            He met her gaze with a glower, his voice dripped with irritation. “Indeed. You already received a day’s respite yesterday. I would not want you to forget your lessons. Be grateful that it is a light training day.”

            With a sigh, Sarah forced herself to rise gracefully to her feet. Her goblins punished clumsiness. As much as she still wanted to indulge in a sulk, she wanted to avoid the painful indignity of being goaded along the running trail by repeated stings of Marvok’s magic even more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.  
> Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	10. Kintsukuroi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kintsukuroi or Kintsugi: The Japanese artistic practice of repairing broken pottery using gold or silver lacquer with the understanding that it is more beautiful and precious for having been broken.

**The world breaks everyone, and afterwards, some are strong at the broken places.**

**~ Ernest Hemingway**

 

**I cannot deny that nothing can defend/**  
From the helplessness that's cutting deep inside/  
And I cannot prevent the thought that nothing's real/  
Seems I've waited years for this day to end.

**The strength I need to feel, the pride inside of me/**  
Are not there behind the face staring back at me/  
The anger and the pain of knowing where I am/  
I have come so far and I cannot return.

**~ from _Rubicon_ by VNV Nation**

            _It’s the look in Sarah’s eyes,_ Nikki decided. _There’s a distance behind them, a certain detachment. It’s like she’s already checked out and is just waiting in the hotel lobby for her cab back to the airport._ Nikki had seen that look before. Bethany’s eyes had looked just like that for months before she vanished.

            Nikki hadn’t exactly decided to go to Sarah’s house. She’d just stuffed a change of clothes into her backpack and started walking. She vaguely remembered telling her mom that she was going to Sarah’s. After Jerome canceled their plans, Nikki had tried to hold on; she’d tried to keep her promise to leave Sarah alone until the party tomorrow. She couldn’t be alone. Not tonight. Not on her sister’s birthday. Bethany would have been eighteen. _Is,_ Nikki corrected herself, _she **is** eighteen today. She’s not dead. I just haven’t seen her lately._

Nikki couldn’t go through that again. She’d only been seven when her sister was taken, but she would never forget. She let her parents believe that she’d forgotten, that time had faded the memories. They didn’t fade. They were burned into her mind. Indelible. Eternal.

            Nikki stumbled over an overgrown crack in the crumbling sidewalk as the memory seized her mind. _She’d snuck into her sister’s room long after bedtime, still wired from the leftover birthday cake she’d smuggled into her room. Bethany was sitting in front of her window. When Nikki called her name, Bethany spun towards her, eyes wide and pleading. “You can’t be here, Nikki! You have to go. They can’t see you!”_

            _But it was too late. The graceful figures standing outside Bethany’s open window glowed too bright to make out their features. Their bell-like voices filled the air around her. Although she couldn’t see their eyes in the pale blue glow surrounding them, she could feel them watching her._

_“We can’t just leave her behind. It isn’t right.”_

_“It’s not, but we have no choice. The law is clear. We only have rights to the firstborn.”_

_“But she doesn’t belong here! She’ll be all alone.”_

_“I know, but there’s nothing to be done. We just have to hope that she’ll find her own way back.”_

_One figure had crouched beside her, and leaned in close. Nikki remembered the smell of honeysuckles after rain. “I’m so sorry, little one. We can’t take you with us. Grow well. Grow up and come home to us.”_  

            _Then, there was darkness._ _When she came back to herself, the glowing figures were gone and so was her sister._

            The police believed that she was too young and traumatized to understand what had happened. Several child therapists had shared that view. It hadn’t taken Nikki long to learn not to talk about it, to claim that she couldn’t remember what happened. Most people preferred lies when the truth frightened them.

            No matter what, Nikki would never forget, or lie to herself. She knew what she’d seen. Aliens had come and taken Bethany away from her. Bethany had known that they were coming for her. She tried to protect her sister by keeping it a secret. Nikki found Bethany’s journal a few weeks after the abduction. She never told anyone about finding it. Not even Sarah.    

            The diary revealed that they’d been visiting Bethany for months before her birthday. She’d known she was leaving, so she pulled away emotionally, her responses vague and distant, as if nothing on the planet was relevant to her anymore. And yet, Nikki always believed that Bethany must have still cared, at least a little, about some of the things she’d abandoned. Otherwise, what was the point of leaving her journal as a farewell to her little sister?

            Ever since school started, Nikki had been feeling that same sense of disconnected distance whenever she was with Sarah. Her friend had always been quiet, a daydreamer lost in her own head, but there was a difference between being habitually quiet versus intentionally hiding something. Nikki crossed the old wooden bridge that was the highlight of the tiny park near her house. She always crossed through the little strip of greenery on her way to Sarah’s place, but she never spent any time there. Not anymore. The park’s miniature gazebo had been Bethany’s favorite spot to play.

            Nikki shook her head and blinked her eyes furiously, refusing to allow the tears to fall. _Sarah,_ she chided herself. _I have to focus on helping Sarah._

            Nikki knew that it wasn’t the sort of change most people would see. To others, Sarah probably appeared to be her usual self, still quiet, still a little dreamy, a late bloomer finally starting to come out of her shell. If she seemed more focused and practical than before, well, wasn’t it about time for the dreamer to get her feet on the ground and start doing something practical about her dreams? If she was calmer, less prone to react like the heroine of a daytime drama, well, chalk it up to maturity, right?

            But someone who’d been through all this before could tell the difference. Sarah wasn’t taking things more calmly because she’d learned to pick her battles. She just didn’t care anymore. Her heart and her head were someplace else.

            It was just like with the stupid birthday cake. Bethany had wanted a Super Mario Brothers cake for her ninth birthday. They’d gotten a Nintendo for Christmas the December before, and within the week Bethany had already started planning her ninth birthday party theme around a certain mustachioed hero.

            Their mother had begun a subtle long term campaign for something more traditionally “girly,” such as My Little Pony or Disney princesses. Bethany, who’d never cared for any of those things, had been vehement in her determination to have a party themed around an Italian plumber who dodged man-eating flowers and oddly aggressive turtles. 

            Until one day, a couple months before the party, their mother had not-so-casually mentioned, “The bakery says they could do a castle shaped cake, hon, with that unicorn My Little Pony that you like on top. The pink one. I think she’s called Twilight.”

 

            Bethany had blinked a few times, her mind slowly surfacing from the depths of faraway thoughts. “Huh? Oh. Sure, that sounds cool,” she’d replied. “Except, could we do Moondancer instead? The white and red one. She’s my favorite.”

            Bethany didn’t like the toys, and she’d thought the show was “for baby princess wanna-bes,” so Moondancer was definitely not her favorite anything. The only reason Bethany even knew the names of any of the pastel equine denizens of Ponyland, was because of the countless hours spent arguing over the television and teasing Nikki about her terrible taste in entertainment.

_Moondancer was_ my _favorite, not Bethany’s,_ Nikki thought. _She picked out her ninth birthday cake for me. Even the most generous little kid isn’t that nice. I should have known something was wrong._

            Now, Sarah was pulling into herself in the exact same way, preparing for something. _Not without a fight,_ Nikki swore. _They took my sister. They can’t have my best friend. There must be something she still cares about, something worth staying for._ She had to get Sarah to talk. She just wished she knew how to do that.

            Nikki found herself standing in front of Sarah’s house. _Here goes nothing,_ she thought. The door opened before she could knock on it.

            Karen gasped at her the sight of her. “Nikki? You scared me half to death! I heard something outside and thought the neighbors’ dog had gotten loose again.”

            “I’m sorry, Karen! I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just looking for Sarah,” Nikki explained.

            Karen smiled. “It’s okay, hon. You just missed her. She was going over to the park. Do you want to go meet up with her? I can stick your backpack in her room if you don’t want to carry it.”

            Nikki nodded and handed over her bag. “Thanks. I’ll go find her.” She said her goodbyes and hurried towards the park to catch up with her friend. Thankfully, it wasn’t far.

            Nikki jogged for a few blocks before she spotted Sarah’s familiar form entering the park ahead of her. “Sarah!” she yelled. “Wait up!” She broke into a run, frantic to reach her friend.  

            Sarah spun towards her. The horror painted across Sarah’s pale face was achingly familiar. As Nikki reached her side, Sarah hissed, “What are you doing here? You need to go.”

            _No,_ Nikki thought. _Are they coming here for her?_ She shook her head, pleading. Echoes of the past trembled through her mind. _Not again. Never again._ The disjointed words tumbled from her lips, “No. Please. Not tonight. I know I promised, but Jerome had to cancel. I can’t be alone. Not on her birthday.”

            Sarah’s eyes widened. “It’s the twenty-seventh! I…I forgot what today was. Look, you can stay at my place tonight, but right now, you need to go. I’ll meet you back there as soon as I can.”

            “Too late for that now.” The rumbling voice spoke from behind them. Nikki turned and saw…someone, something. He stood with his back towards them. _What is he?_ she wondered. _Not human, but not like any alien that I’ve read about and nothing like the ones I’ve seen._ Time seemed to slow as she took in the details: tall, leanly muscled, dark gray skin. His hair was even darker and slightly metallic. _Like gunmetal._ What must have been hundreds of tiny braids fell around his shoulders. He was clothed in unadorned, fitted black garments that left his arms bare. He wasn’t even facing her, but she still felt like he was about to strike. Whatever he was, he was dangerous. Nikki felt her muscles tense, preparing to flee.

            Sarah’s voice cut through the air. “What do you mean, ‘too late’?” Sarah demanded. “She has to get out of here!”

            The figure turned. Nikki saw sharp, predatory features and glowing eyes like molten amber. “If you want your half-blood friend to live, there is no time for retreat. Your scent is already on her,” he growled. He raised one arm, pointed somewhere behind Nikki’s shoulder with a flickering, ebony sword. “Go! Now!”

            Sarah grabbed her arm and took off at a run. They sprinted towards a massive oak tree, Nikki struggling to keep up. She didn’t want Sarah to have to drag her. _When did she get so fast?_ Nikki wondered. _Sarah’s never been athletic._

            Sarah shoved Nikki’s back into the rough bark, then turned to face whatever was coming. “Don’t move. Stay behind me.” Sarah’s voice was harsh and Nikki didn’t dare argue. Sarah dropped into a fighting stance and raised her hands. “No matter what you see or hear, don’t move. Whatever you do, **_don’t touch my blades_**.” Before Nikki could ask what she meant, twin black swords appeared in Sarah’s hands. _Sarah_ , of all people, was posed like a fierce warrior preparing for battle. It should have looked silly. It didn’t. _She looks like a ninja from some action flick,_ Nikki thought. _Graceful and deadly._

            Movement caught Nikki’s eye. There, in the glow cast by a streetlight, she saw it. It was the size and shape of a panther, but with ugly, mottled, grey-green scales. It had a scorpion-like tail curved high above its back. Nikki wanted to scream, but the air wouldn’t come. She pushed herself back against the tree as it stared them down. _We’re going to die here,_ she thought. _Killed by a monster._ Part of her wanted to laugh at the irony. She’d been afraid of aliens her whole life, but a fantasy monster was going to be the death of her. _I guess I was afraid of the wrong genre._

            Nikki heard shrieks and snarls all around her. She didn’t look. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the cat-thing’s gaze. Then, it looked away and leapt into the bushes, disappearing from view. Noises filled the air: shrieks and snarls, growls and yelps, sickening wet sounds, and the crunch of bone. It churned into a horrid white-noise that held no meaning she could comprehend.

            Nikki’s heart fluttered in her chest like a panicked bird trying to escape its cage. Her eyes turned towards her friend, seeking comradery in their shared terror, but Sarah didn’t look afraid. She held her stance while scanning the area. If anything, she looked…expectant.

            The cat-thing burst from the underbrush ahead and charged them. It was visibly wounded, its tail severed. It was less agile now, but still fast. _So fast._ Sarah darted towards it, spun to the side, dove forward. She plunged her sword deep into the back of its neck. It stumbled as the sword pulled free, fell, thrashed on the grass. Sarah slashed down with her other blade, slicing open its belly. Entrails spilled across the ground like writhing worms.

            Bile rose in Nikki’s throat as the smell hit her; the reek of blood and shit and other things she couldn’t name blended together into a vile miasma. She choked it down. She felt tears spilling from her eyes, but she couldn’t move to wipe them away.

            Sarah stabbed the beast a final time in the chest, and then slipped back in front of Nikki, resuming her defensive position. Nikki watched in horrified fascination as the beast’s greenish blood flowed down Sarah’s arms towards her swords. The black blades pulsed with shadowy flames as they consumed the liquid. _They’re feeding off that thing’s blood._ Nikki gasped at the realization.

            Nearby, a nearly-human scream cried out before cutting off abruptly. Nikki’s head snapped towards the sound. When she turned back, the menacing charcoal-skinned figure stood before them, just behind the cat-thing’s corpse. His weapons were gone. “It’s over,” he said. “That was the last of them.” Amber eyes looked down at the dead beast. He smiled, flashing razor-edged teeth. “Well done, Champion. This was a good kill.” He looked back up. “Take the half-blood and return to your home. Marvok wants you behind his wards in case their master comes looking for whatever killed his pets. I’ll meet you there. Marvok and Nessos will stay to deal with the mess.”

            Sarah nodded. The blades vanished from her hands. “We’ll go now. I’ll see you at home.” She turned to Nikki. Her skin and clothes were spotless, not a drop of blood to be seen. Sarah’s forehead creased with worry, her eyes wide and uncertain. “I know you must be really freaked right now, but we need to get back to my place. I promise that I’ll explain everything once we’re safe in my room.” Her voice was gentle, coaxing.

            Nikki nodded. The whole thing felt unreal, like her life had turned into a movie. _I remember this feeling,_ she thought. _This is how it felt when they took my sister. At least this time, someone is offering to explain what happened._ She allowed Sarah to take her arm and lead her away from the park.

***JS*JS*JS***

            Sarah spent the walk back to her house trying to figure out what the hell to say. _How do I explain?_ she wondered. _How do you tell your best friend that fairy tales are real, at least the scary ones, and that sometimes the thing you feel watching you actually **is** a monster? How do you apologize for dragging someone into this world, even if you didn’t mean to?_

            Nikki hadn’t said a word since Azu first appeared, so Sarah had no idea what was going on in her friend’s head. They walked in silence.

            Karen was in the living room when the two girls came in. Her eyes landed on Nikki’s tear-streaked face and she opened her mouth to speak. Sarah cut her off before she could, “Hey Karen, is it cool if Nikki stays over tonight?”

            Karen nodded. “Of course, sweetie. You know that Nikki is always welcome.” Her stepmother’s eyes told Sarah that she wasn’t getting out of an explanation.

            Sarah turned towards her friend, “Hey. Why don’t you go on upstairs? I’ll grab us some sodas and be right up.”

            Nikki nodded and headed to Sarah’s room without a word. As soon as Nikki was gone, Sarah walked to the kitchen with Karen trailing close behind. “What’s going on?” Karen asked.

            Sarah shrugged. “It’s Bethany’s birthday. Nikki had plans with Jerome tonight, but they fell through. I don’t know the details.”

            Karen’s face softened. “No wonder she looks so upset. Poor girl, losing her sister like that. I’m glad she has you to be there for her.” Karen smiled at Sarah and gently squeezed her shoulder. “We have frozen pizzas and nacho fixings if you girls get hungry. There’s even some leftover cookie dough in the freezer if you need a sugar fix. I know you’ll be up late, so I’ll get Toby and your father to go out to with me in the morning.” 

            Sarah began to protest that it wasn’t necessary, but Karen waved her off. “It’s no trouble, sweetie. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day and we’ve been meaning to take your brother to that new playground at Lakeside Park. I hear that they have a wonderful toddler area. I’ll leave some muffins for when you girls get up. You just worry about taking care of Nikki. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

            Sarah nodded. She definitely agreed with Karen on that point. Besides, Lakeside Park was all the way across town. If the toddler area really was that amazing, maybe Karen would start taking Toby there instead of to Memorial Park where Sarah trained. And occasionally fought monsters. “Okay. I’ll do my best. Thanks, Karen. Goodnight.” Sarah grabbed a couple of cokes out of the fridge and went upstairs.

            She entered her room and shut the door behind her. Nikki was sitting in the desk chair and rifling through her black-and-white striped, furry backpack. _Where did that come from?_ Sarah wondered. _She didn’t have it on her at the park._ Sarah began, “Look…”

              Nikki raised one hand to stop her. Finally, she pulled out a coffin-shaped, silver flask with an expression of triumph. She unscrewed the lid and took a long swig before sighing happily. Nikki held the flask out and waggled it in Sarah’s direction.

            Sarah sat the cokes on her desk and accepted it with a shrug. “Why the hell not?” she asked. She sat on the edge of her bed facing Nikki and took a drink. Sarah wasn’t much of a partier, but sometimes a girl needed a bit of hard liquor to deal with her life drama. Especially now, when said life drama included murderous other-planar entities. _And that was just the goblins._ She focused on the feeling of the vodka as it burned its way down her throat. Finally, she nodded at Nikki and passed the flask back to her.

            Nikki took another drink before closing it. “So,” she commented, “what the ever-living fuck just happened?”

            Sarah sighed and raked her fingers through her hair. “It’s…complicated. Something happened to me not long after you left for L.A.” She shrugged. “I’m still dealing with the fallout. I don’t honestly know if I’ll ever be done dealing with it. I’m just sorry that you got pulled into my shit-storm.” She looked up at Nikki. “Really. I’m so sorry, Nikki. I didn’t want to get anyone else involved, least of all you.”

            Nikki looked down and chewed on her lip. She took a deep breath, “Why don’t you start at the beginning. What happened after I left?”

            Sarah shifted uncomfortably. “Do you remember that old fantasy novel that I used to be obsessed with?”

            Nikki nodded. “ _Labyrinth_ , right? It had a red cover. Told a weird story about a girl who wished her little sister away to the goblins…” Nikki’s eyes went wide. “You _didn’t_!”

            Sarah bowed her head in shame. “I did,” she whispered. “I didn’t think it would work. I mean, it was a fantasy novel! I never believed…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what I believed. It was real. The goblins came and took Toby, then their king came and offered me a deal. If I let them keep my brother, he would give me my dreams. If I refused, I had thirteen hours to run the Labyrinth to get him back…” 

            Sarah told Nikki everything. She answered every question. After what Nikki had just been through, Sarah owed her the truth. By the 11:30 p.m., the tale was done, and the flask was almost empty. Nikki looked at her with a contemplative expression. “So…now you’re a noblewoman in another dimension?”

            “Yup.” Sarah took a last swig of vodka.

            “And you’re running yourself ragged trying to learn how to fight and use magic, because things keep trying to kill you.”

            “That pretty much covers it, yes.” Sarah shrugged. Ridiculous as it was, this was her life now.

            Nikki grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have kept pressuring you to become Miss Social Butterfly if I’d known about all the shit you were dealing with!” She let go with an exasperated sigh.

            Sarah looked away. She couldn’t meet Nikki’s eyes. “Would you have believed me? I mean, the whole thing is insane! I’m living it, and I still know that it’s crazy.”

            Nikki rolled her eyes. “You’d be surprised at what I’d believe. I told you about what really happened to my sister. That’s not any less crazy. And I don’t even have magical goblins to show as evidence that I’m telling the truth!”

            Sarah froze. _That’s the million-dollar question,_ she thought. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be able to see them. You never have before…” She looked to where Marvok perched on her bookshelf. Before she could speak, she heard his voice in her mind. _“Direct your questions to Azu, Champion. Not to me.”_

            Sarah blinked. _“Why?”_ she asked him silently.

            Marvok tilted his head and arched a brow at her. _“For the sake of your friend’s sanity, we are suppressing our natural fear auras. But no magic, no glamour, **nothing** can change my voice. Do you believe that she is in the proper mental state to hear me speak?”_

            Sarah had grown accustomed to Marvok’s voice, but she hadn’t forgotten the first time she’d heard him. He’d offered a simple greeting and she’d been terrified by the sound alone.

            She turned to where Azu was curled up in his gargoyle-cat form beside her pillow. She didn’t know if Nikki had even noticed him there. “Azu, why could Nikki see you?”

            Azu opened his eyes. “It was necessary. My presence was shocking enough to get her to listen. We had little time. As to why she can still see me…”

            “Wait,” Nikki said. Her eyes went wide. “That voice. Those eyes. That little winged cat is the same dude we saw at the park? Seriously?”

            Sarah nodded. “They’re shapeshifters. They look like this most of the time.” She paused, reconsidering. “Well, to me, they usually look like this. To everyone and every _thing_ else, they’re invisible, as I understand it.”

            Nikki’s turned her head to scan the room. She paused when her eyes landed on Marvok and again on Nessos.

            Sarah sighed. “Allow me to introduce the shadow goblins.” She pointed at each of them and gave their names in turn.

            “Pleased to meet you,” Nikki said. Then, she turned and gave Sarah a questioning look. “If they’re usually invisible to anyone but you, and if he only let me see him so that I wouldn’t cause any problems at the park, why can I _still_ see all three of them?”

            Azu answered her. “You’re a half-blood. At some point, someone put a powerful binding spell on you to prevent your magic from manifesting itself. It looks quite old, a bit frayed at the edge of your aura, but still very strong. However, it’s always difficult to prevent the Sight from developing. I suspect that you’ve always Seen fragments. Seeing me brought that half-awakened power fully to life. It can’t be shut off a second time.”

            Sarah gasped at that last revelation, but Nikki ignored her. She directed her next question to the little goblin. “You keep calling me a half-blood? What do you mean by that? Half-blood what?”

            Azu tilted his head, amber eyes studying her. “You’re half pixie. The scent is distinctive. There’s really no mistaking it. One of your parents must be an exile from the Underground…or have come to the mortal realm for other reasons. Regardless, you’re not fully human. You mentioned a sister? Do you share the same pair of parents?”

            The color drained from Nikki’s face. “Yeah. Why?”

            Azu stared at Nikki. “You said earlier that she was taken? How old was she when it happened? What did you see?”

            Nikki fidgeted with her bracelets. Her voice trembled as she answered him, “It happened on the night of her ninth birthday. I was seven. I snuck into her room because I couldn’t sleep, and saw a pair of glowing figures take her. One of them wanted to take me too, but the other one said that it wasn’t allowed. They seemed…upset about it.”

            Azu gave her a satisfied nod. “That explains why a half-blood of your age is still in the mortal world. Your pixie parent’s family came for the firstborn on her ninth birthday in accordance with Fae law. Under that same law, they wouldn’t have been entitled to both children, only the eldest. They no doubt hoped that you would come into your power and return to the Underground on your own.”

            Nikki chewed her lip as she considered this. Finally, she asked, “Even if they had some right to take my sister, why would they? And why would it be important to them that I go to the Underground?”

            Azu shrugged. “Pixies have almost as much trouble conceiving as the Sidhe do, so children are as precious to them as they are among the Sidhe. It wouldn’t have been easy for them to be forced by covenant to leave one behind. Half-bloods are entitled to return to their Fae families if they so choose once they come of age.” He looked contemplative. “I suspect that the bindings on you were placed there to prevent that from happening. After all, if you never knew of other possibilities, you couldn’t choose them.”

            For a long time, Nikki was silent. Emotions darted across her face too rapidly for Sarah to be certain of her friend’s feelings. When Nikki finally spoke, her voice was cold. “What are you saying? I’m supposed to be like some kind of fairy? I’m supposed to have magical powers? To be able to cast spells that actually work? Not some new age, crystal waving bullshit, but real magic? Are you saying that one of my parents had a spell put on me so that I wouldn’t ever find out I had what I was? Or that I had powers?”

            Azu nodded. “That is exactly what I’m saying. With your power bound, it was unlikely that you would discover that you were anything other than fully human. As I said, if you never learned what you were, or that other realms existed, you could never decide to leave this one.”

            Nikki jumped to her feet with a snarl. “That bastard! He **_knew_**! He knew what I saw, and he **_lied_** to me! All the times that I cried about feeling like something was wrong with me, like something was missing… He just told me that I was perfect just like I am, and the whole time, he fucking **_knew_**!”

            Sarah had no idea how to calm her friend down. She asked, “Are you sure it was your dad?”

            Nikki paced back and forth, staring at the ground. Her rage was tangible. “Oh, I’m sure. When Bethany was taken, he seemed sad, but not afraid. Mom was terrified, but he wasn’t. He tried to hide it, but I could tell. It was almost like he’d expected it to happen.” She laughed bitterly. “I’ve always told myself that I imagined it, that he was just trying to be strong for my mom. Now, I know the truth. He wasn’t afraid because he knew where she was and who’d taken her.”

            When Nikki looked back up, her pale eyes glinted like steel. “This binding, is there some way to break it?”      

***JS*JS*JS***

            Four days after their arrival to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, the obnoxious emissaries finally departed for their own lands. Jareth was relieved to be rid of them. Admittedly, he would have to deal with the rampaging monster that they’d petitioned him about, but that seemed like a far more pleasant prospect than having to tolerate more of their nattering. Their second offer had been more than acceptable. Jareth assumed that he had Lord Andris to thank for that. The lad had definitely been a solid choice for his position as Royal Emissary.

            The Singing Forests would ship three cubic tons of valuable Canendi wood to the Goblin City, along with thirteen precious saplings for attempted cultivation. The Whispering Mountains would provide nine cubic tons of the rare shimmer-marble mined in their region. In truth, the price the Singing Forests paid was higher, but he could tell that Lord Medrin did not expect the saplings to thrive outside of their native forests. The fool clearly believed that the trees would be nothing more than a novelty for the Goblin King’s Royal Gardens.

            Jareth smiled. Visiting nobles never really grasped the nature of the Labyrinth. He had no doubt that the saplings would prosper in his lands. Admittedly, the wild energies flowing through the place would alter their nature. In a few hundred years, they wouldn’t exactly be Canendi trees anymore. Jareth looked forward to seeing what they became. _Will they still sing in a thousand years?_ he wondered. _Will the pale wood maintain its opalescence? Or will they transform into something entirely new?_ One could never be certain how such things would play out. It was one of the delights of his position.  

            After seeing to the departure of his unwanted guests, Jareth returned to his quarters. While Bree’Onne had been gone for nearly three days, Jareth knew that his Seneschal had only been in the mortal realm for a fraction of that time. The passage of time between the two realms was not consistent and Bree’Onne lacked the ability to manipulate that factor. Out of all of the inhabitants of the Underground, only Jareth possessed that power. It was a gift from the Labyrinth to Her King.

            Regardless, the delay was driving Jareth mad. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a crystal to his fingers. He stared into its depths, willing it to show him Bree’Onne. He saw Bree’Onne striding through a lichen-covered stone corridor. _He’s back_ , Jareth realized. _He’s back and Sarah isn’t with him._ He hurled the crystal at the wall with a snarl. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He’d known it wouldn’t likely be that easy, no matter what he might have hoped. The Lady Sarah had displayed a talent for doing things the hard way, after all. Jareth pulled on the Labyrinth’s power and transported both himself and Bree’Onne directly to his office.

            Jareth appeared in the chair behind his desk. He forced back the urge to begin questioning his Seneschal immediately. Unexpected transportations were always disorienting. He waved his hand above the crystal that sat in a wrought silver holder on his desk and ordered the servants to bring refreshments for two to his office. Finally, he turned to Bree’Onne. “Sit.”

            Bree’Onne took a chair across from him. After a moment, he asked, “Have the Emissaries departed, Your Majesty?”

            Jareth leveled an icy glare at him. “Indeed they have. Now, tell me what you’ve learned.”

            Bree’Onne hesitated. “Your Majesty, you should know that Lady Sarah is not alone in the mortal world.”

            Jareth blinked, then arched one brow at his Seneschal. “As I obviously didn’t expect for the human realm to have emptied since last I was there, I assume you mean someone _specific_ is with her. Care to elaborate?” He ground the words out through gritted teeth. 

            Bree’Onne shifted nervously. “I don’t know. I never saw them, only evidence of their presence. The Champion told me that she had been granted three guardians as a reward for her victory.”

            Jareth froze. _Guardians?_ he wondered. He had never heard of such a thing. _Was this a trick of some kind? Was Sarah in danger?_ He shifted his focus to the Labyrinth. _“Did you send Sarah three guardians?”_ he asked Her. 

            _“Yes, my King. If a Challenger becomes Champion while there is a sitting monarch on the throne, they are granted three guardians to protect both their person and title. Lady Sarah’s guardians are powerful and will serve her well,”_ She answered.

            Jareth raked a hand through his hair and sighed. _“Why was I not informed of this?”_

            _“You did not ask, my King. The ancient laws regarding Champions are properly recorded and housed within your Royal Library. This information has never been concealed.”_ Jareth could hear the amusement rippling through Her reply.

            Jareth clenched his gloved hands into fists. _“Who are these guardians? Who did you send to her?”_

Jareth felt Her hesitation through their bond. _“That is not for me to tell, my King. If Lady Sarah wishes for it to be known, she may provide that information herself.”_

            The Goblin King scowled. _Impetuous maze!_ He turned back towards Bree’Onne who waited in silence. Jareth managed to keep his voice level when he spoke. “The Labyrinth admits to sending them, but will not reveal their identities. Tell me everything you witnessed while you were there. And I mean _everything._ Leave out _nothing_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to CaptainXeno for beta-ing this chapter! I send you all my love.   
>  Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.   
>  Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	11. Midnight in the Garden of the Goblin Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: I apologize for the extreme delay on this update. The surgery I was having ended up being far more major than expected from the scans. Since then, my life has been a comedy of errors and I’ve had very little time and even less inspiration to write. Thankfully, I’m finally back in the zone. 
> 
> I am, however, starting another story in another fandom to which will start posting soon. I will be switching back and forth between the two in order to prevent burnout as I am now reaching the more complex and challenging portions of this piece. 
> 
> Finally, if any of my readers are interested in beta-ing for either this work or my new piece in the True Blood fandom, please drop me a line. I deeply appreciate all of your continued support. Thanks for reading!

**Tell me what to do so I do nothing wrong/**  
Something I can hope for, something real that I can see/  
So nothing falls apart, so that it does not end/  
I cannot return, I can't start again.

**~ from _Rubicon_ by VNV Nation**

            It was nearly 2:00 a.m. when Nikki finally fell asleep. Sarah was nowhere near that state herself. She stared at her ceiling, listening to the faint music emanating from the painting on the wall above her. If she focused, she could almost hear his voice, singing to her. She remembered the ballroom, remembered dancing with his arms around her. _No,_ she chided herself. _You will not fantasize about the Goblin King, you stupid girl._

Sarah wished she had a hot mug of Marvok’s enchanted tea available. Quiet moments were the worst. They always brought back memories of hypnotic eyes and sly smiles and…other things. She rubbed her hands down her face with a sigh. _Why can’t you be happy with what you have?_ she asked herself. _Or at least learn to be careful about what the hell you wish for?_ _You wanted magic to be real and it’s real. You wanted to be special and now you’re all kinds of freakin’ special: Lady Sarah the Defiant, Champion of the Labyrinth, wielder of vicious sentient weapons, and annoyance to supernatural assassins. You’re a unique freakin’ snowflake just like you always wanted._

The dark voice cutting through her thoughts was almost a relief. _“Are you done dreaming of His Majesty and needlessly berating yourself for it? We have things to discuss.”_

            She opened her eyes and discovered that Marvok was perched on her headboard. His ruby eyes glittered down at her with amusement. She glowered back at him. There was really no point in being embarrassed about it. It wasn’t as though she could keep secrets from Marvok. _“Go on, laugh at how pathetic I am,”_ she thought at him.

            He smirked. _“I always do.”_ He hopped off the headboard and landed gracefully next to her pillow. She rolled onto her side to glare at him.

            _“I killed something today,”_ she told him. It seemed like she should feel something about that. Horror, maybe? Remorse? Guilt? Truthfully, the only thing she felt guilty about was that Nikki had to see it. She felt little about the act itself. The creature wanted to kill her and she killed it first. If anything, she felt a bit proud of her accomplishment. And, perhaps, a bit worried about what her lack of guilt said about the person she was becoming.

            Marvok smiled. _“Indeed. It was an excellent first kill. Your skill has increased much faster than I could have foreseen. You have been a dedicated student. It is unfortunate that your mortal obligations require so much of your time.”_

            Sarah smiled at that. Marvok wasn’t one for hollow praise. He was clearly pleased. After all, everything had gone as he planned. _“You meant for me to kill it. You wounded it, then drove it towards me.”_

            He nodded, not bothering to deny it. _“You were ready, but since many hesitate the first time, I had to control the circumstances. If you had frozen, it would not have been able to cause permanent damage to you before I could eliminate it. I had planned on taking you to Nightmare to make your first kill, but I was not going to waste such an opportunity. I assumed it would be easier for you to kill something that was not sentient, and felivyrns barely even qualify as animals. They are descended from escaped magical constructs and serve no purpose other than slaughter.”_

            Sarah sighed. She didn’t like being coddled. _“Would you have done the same if I was a shadow goblin cub?”_

            Marvok blinked at her. His puzzlement was palatable. _“Of course. The first kill should always be made under controlled conditions.”_

            She considered this. She’d gotten the impression that shadow goblins were vicious from birth, so she couldn’t really feel offended when Marvok used the standard training method for cubs. Finally, she asked, _“You needed to talk to me?”_

            Marvok nodded. _“Not here. There are things of which I am…uncertain, things I need to understand. We must visit the Labyrinth._

            _“We’re going to the Underground?”_ Sarah asked. She couldn’t hide the excitement that filled her at the thought.

            Marvok shook his head. _“Not just yet, Champion. This time, we will visit Her in my realm.”_ He leaned close, _“Now, **SLEEP**.”_

   ***JS*JS*JS***

            “Let me see if I understand your report.” Jareth’s voice was cold and quiet. “Sarah’s guardians were able to conceal their presence from you so thoroughly that you have no idea who, or even what, they might be. All you _do_ know for certain is that at least one of them is a master assassin. Is that correct?”  

            Bree’Onne nodded. He didn’t fidget under the intensity of Jareth’s gaze. Stillness was a native trait of the Serpentine. A lifetime of training enhanced this tendency to perfection. Even so, in that moment, it took all of his will not flinch away from his King. “That is correct, Sire.” He paused before adding, “Further, the assassin clearly possesses staggering skill, even by the standards of the Masters. The privacy spell on the Champion’s quarters was beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”

            Bree’Onne almost sagged in relief when Jareth’s glare shifted to the crystal at his fingertips. Bree’Onne focused his mind, called on his training, and forced his body to maintain its proper stillness. Minutes crept by as he waited on his liege’s word. The King remained silent, eyes locked on the crystalline orb. Bree’Onne didn’t mind the waiting. He’d mastered that skill when he was still a child. He would contentedly wait until time’s end so long as the Goblin King’s attention wasn’t focused on _him_ while he did it.

            Suddenly, Jareth’s form went rigid. His eyes flared wider with shock. The King hissed, “Just who did that accursed maze send?”

            Bree’Onne made no motion, when he spoke, his voice was cautious, “Your Majesty? Has the Labyrinth provided you with greater knowledge of the Champion’s guardians?”

            Jareth looked back to his Seneschal with a resigned sigh. “Only that She doesn’t fear betrayal because the guardians are blood-bound to Sarah.”

            Bree’Onne’s ebon eyes widened. “But, that’s…”

            Jareth cut him off with a wave of one hand. “Yes. I know.” The King gave a low growl and hurled the crystal at the wall. It burst into prismatic shards with a sound like tinkling glass. “By Danu! What manner of creature would even know how to perform a blood bond? Only a handful of senior priests are said to possess that knowledge! And why would such a drastic measure be necessary? None of this makes any logical…” Jareth stilled, his expression turned contemplative. After a moment, his gaze shifted back to Bree’Onne. “You said that Sarah had Ascended?”

            Bree’Onne nodded. He’d been expecting a question about that point.

            Jareth’s gaze bore into his Seneschal. “And she was transforming? Becoming Fae?”

            Again, Bree’Onne nodded. “Without doubt, Your Majesty. Had I not seen her previously, I would have assumed her to be half Sidhe.”

            Horror washed over Jareth’s features. “She’s not in Chrysalis,” he whispered.

            Bree’Onne cocked his head to one side, considering. The significance of this hadn’t occurred to him. Like most goblin races, the Serpentine did not, and had never, bred with non-Fae. Still, he understood the fundamentals of the process. For a half-human to transform without the proper assistance was…problematic. His eyes widened. “It…it didn’t occur to me,” he muttered. “She didn’t seem to be in any distress.”

            Jareth blinked. “Are you certain? You saw no signs of pain?”

            Bree’Onne sighed. “I saw no signs…but, honestly, Your Majesty, I’m certain of nothing when it regards the Lady Sarah.”

            The King pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and took a deep breath. “She’s transforming, without Chrysalis, but showing no indications of trauma. To my knowledge, that is unprecedented. Further, she’s Ascended, and **_none_** of us realized it until you laid eyes on her.” Jareth snarled and raked his hands through his pale hair. “I didn’t feel her Ascend. I **_should_** have. None of this…” Jareth paused, his eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t the likelihood of her Ascension occur to any of us? We knew that she had taken full title. It clearly occurred to others outside of the Labyrinth.”  

            Jareth rose to his feet with bared teeth. His eyes flashed silver as his power flared, filling the room with crackling static. Instinct warned Bree’Onne not to move, not to draw the maelstrom’s attention. Jareth turned to stare out the window at the Labyrinth. His hands curled into fists as the magic built in the air around him. “How _DARE_ She?” he hissed. “How dare She hide this from me?” The King’s ancient desk exploded in a rain of splinters.      

***JS*JS*JS***

            Sarah smelled roses, and something that reminded her of burning leaves. The combination was compelling. She could hear the crackling of a fire nearby. The air was warm and a gentle breeze ruffled her hair. She could feel Marvok’s familiar presence behind her.

            Sarah could feel that her body was asleep and that she was no longer inside of it. She was in the Labyrinth. She was in Nightmare as well, but that was far less important. The Labyrinth was what mattered. The Labyrinth was _home_.

            Sarah opened her eyes. She was standing in the center of a rose maze and the roses were all burning. The blossoms grew from hedges that were so dark a green as to be nearly black. The hedges didn’t burn; only the roses were aflame. The fire didn’t consume them; they were perfectly whole, wreathed in lapping flames. She reached towards one of the roses and it moved, nuzzling against her hand like an affectionate cat. The flames twined up her fingers and across the back of her hand. She felt heat, but no pain.

            “Where am I?” she asked.

            “The Royal Gardens of the Goblin Queen,” Marvok replied.

            Sarah’s gut twisted. The rose coiled tighter against her, as though to offer comfort. She fought to keep her voice level. “I didn’t realize that the King was married. Who is she?”

            Marvok chuckled. “There is no Goblin Queen. His Majesty is unwed.”  

            Sarah turned to look back at him. _There is no Queen, but I’m standing in her gardens._ “What happened to her?”

            He tilted his head, studying her. A faint smile pulled at the edges of his lips. “There has never been a Goblin Queen.”

            Sarah frowned at him, her brows knitted together in confusion. “I don’t understand. You just said…”

            Marvok chuckled. “I told you that these were the Royal Gardens of the Goblin Queen, and they are. They came into being the day that Jareth took the crown. The Queen also has private chambers in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. There has never been a Queen, but one must assume that there will be someday. The Labyrinth clearly planned ahead.”

            Sarah looked away, considering the information. The knowledge made the strangeling beauty of the garden even more haunting. _Roses burning eternally for a Queen who had never been._ The flower wrapped around her wrist tugged at her, seeking attention. She reached up her other hand and stroked it idly. It vibrated, purring against her hand. “It’s so beautiful here,” she said. “The future Queen is lucky.” She smiled down at the purring rose and the flames wrapping up her arm. “The roses are so affectionate. I wouldn’t have expected them to be friendly.”

            Marvok laughed at that. “They are no such thing. They are carnivorous, and they normally rip apart poor fools who get within their reach.”

            Sarah blinked. She had moved closer to the hedge without noticing and was now leaning against the dense foliage. Burning flowers crowded around her. The roses didn’t _seem_ threatening.  “Um…Should I be concerned about where I’m standing?” 

            “There is no need for you to be. You are the Champion. All of the Labyrinth’s denizens know you.” Marvok stood motionless for a moment, watching the roses as they pressed against her. There was something in his gaze that she couldn’t recognize, some knowledge he didn’t share. He moved forward, taking her hand and leading her away from the hedge. “Come, Champion. There is more to see and much to be decided.”

            Marvok led her deeper into the maze and into a small courtyard orchard. The trees were lovely, disturbing things—shaped like weeping willows with charcoal bark and vermillion leaves that reminded her of dripping blood. Marvok slipped beneath the branches of one and returned with a familiar, violet fruit. Sarah accepted it from him with a murmur of thanks. “This is a bloodfruit,” she said.

            Marvok nodded in response.

            “I thought they came from the Underground, but they don’t, do they?”

            He shook his head. “No. Bloodfruit trees grow only in the Nightmare Realm. The ones that we have brought you came from this very orchard.”

            Sarah considered this, “I know that I have to eat food from the Underground if I want to stay healthy, but why have you been giving me fruit from Nightmare?”

            Marvok hesitated. “I did not foresee how much our blood would alter you. I knew that it would change you to some degree, that you would never again truly be a creature of the light…” He shook his head and shrugged. “The transformation went far beyond what I expected. I realized the truth of it as I watched your aura shift during your Ascension.” His gaze met hers.

            “It’s black,” she whispered. Her voice spoke words from a film she’d watched dozens of times: “Black as midnight, black as pitch*…”

            “Yes. With colors tangled through like glowing threads. You belong to the Labyrinth first, but Nightmare has a claim on you that you will never be free from. If things were otherwise, I would never have allowed you to so much as touch a Darkblade, let alone wield one. Regardless, the change cannot be reversed. You are bound to this realm, so you deserve to benefit from the power that such a binding can grant you. Over time, the bloodfruit will strengthen that power.” He watched her, awaiting her reaction.    

            Sarah shrugged and looked away. Railing against the truth was pointless. Her time in the Underground taught her that. “What’s done, is done,” she quoted. She sat down on the grass and began peeling her fruit. “Will I ever be able to come here for real? Physically, I mean.”

            Marvok dropped to a crouch. “You can come here whenever you wish. I don’t recommend venturing outside of the Labyrinth until you have mastered more of your power, but I can teach you how to slip through the shadows to reach the gardens tomorrow if you like.”

            Sarah smiled as she pulled away the last of the fruit’s thick skin. “I want to learn.” Even if it was the Nightmare Realm’s version, she would finally be able to visit the Labyrinth. The gardens made her feel…at peace. A thought occurred to her then and she looked up at him, “Am I allowed to be here? I mean…these are the Queen’s Gardens…”

            Marvok arched a brow at her. “As I already stated, there is no Queen. There never has been. As Champion, you have the right to travel where you wish within the Labyrinth. Besides, who is going to challenge you? The King has not visited this realm in eons. As Lord of the Labyrinth, he has power over both Dream and Nightmare, but he has always favored Dream. I assume that is why the Queen’s Gardens are here. The Queen needs to be of the other side in order to provide balance.” Marvok smirked. “It will also give her a place to reside when she wishes to avoid him.”      

            Sarah’s lips twitched up at that, but she managed not to laugh. She bit into the bloodfruit, savoring the tart and spicy juice. She swallowed her bite before asking, “Reside? Does the future Queen have a palace in Nightmare’s Labyrinth as well as a garden?”

            Marvok grinned. “There is a castle at the heart of the Labyrinth here just as there is in the Underground. However, it was not to the castle that I referred. The Queen’s Retreat lies at the center of her gardens. I suppose you could call it a villa. I can show it to you next time, if you like.”

            Sarah nodded. “As long as it’s permitted, I want to see it.” She paused, chewing her fruit before turning to him with her brows furrowed. “Marvok, you said that the King favors Dream, but that doesn’t make any sense. He’s obviously dangerous. Shouldn’t he prefer Nightmare?”

            Marvok laughed. “Do you truly believe that dreams present no danger?” He looked into her eyes. “Tell me, Champion, out of all the trials you faced during your challenge, what obstacle came the closest to defeating you?”

            Sarah blinked. “The ballroom…I ate an enchanted peach…”

            His smirk was wicked. “So despite everything you overcame, the peach dream was nearly your undoing?”

            She looked away and nodded, blinking back tears at the bittersweet recollection.

            Marvok gripped her chin with one hand and forced her to look at him. “Are you familiar with Greek mythology, Sarah?”

            She nodded. “Yes. Why?”

            He tilted his head, arching one brow. “Do you recall the tale of Odysseus? Of the Lotus Eaters?”

            Sarah’s eyes widened in understanding. “Those who ate of the fruit never wanted to go home again… They gave up their lives to dwell in dreams…”

            Marvok nodded. “And what did the Goblin King offer you in exchange for your brother? What prize did he tempt you with?”

            “My dreams,” she whispered. “He offered me my dreams.” She scowled. “So dreams are dangerous because they make you forget what’s important. You can lose yourself in them and you never see the threat until it’s too late.” Her eyes glittered with anger. “It seems to me that nightmares are far more honest. They don’t try to hide the truth and trick you into falsely believing that you’re safe.”

            Marvok chuckled. “I couldn’t agree more.” With that, he released her chin and gracefully shifted to sit beside her.

            Sarah sighed and leaned against his shoulder. It was comforting. Marvok was a sadistic bastard when he felt like it, but he was _her_ sadistic bastard. After finishing the bloodfruit, she finally asked, “What do you think I should do about my birthday? His Majesty will be expecting an answer.”  

            Marvok sighed. “The answer to that is more complex than you probably realize. At this point, you cannot return to the Underground for any extended period of time.”

            She turned her head to look up at him. “But why? I mean…I’ve been worried about what to tell my family and I know that it would be easier for them if I just wait until graduation and convince them that I’m going to college in England or something…But that’s not what you’re concerned about, is it?”

            Marvok shook his head and flashed Sarah a rueful smile. “No. A convenient fabrication could be created for your human family’s benefit if that was the problem.” He looked away from her. “In the beginning, I expected for you to return to the Underground once you had learned the basics of controlling your power. However, you are changing far too rapidly for that to be a viable option at this time.” He reached forward and grasped strand of her hair, pulling it in front of her eyes. “Your hair is almost black now. Soon, it will be as dark as mine.” He released the strand and ran one fingertip along her forearm. “Your skin becomes paler by the day. You are becoming Fae and the change is happening incredibly fast. If you lived in the Underground, it would only speed the process. Until the transformation is complete, or the rate of change stabilized, it is not safe for you to dwell there.”

            Sarah studied his face. There was something he wasn’t telling her. “Why is it dangerous, Marvok? What aren’t you saying?”

            He sighed and glanced down at her. “The transition from human to Fae is agonizing. You must understand: every cell of your body, every mote of your energy, is being broken down and transformed into something new. In half-bloods, the change is called Chrysalis. The young one is brought to the Underground and cocooned in the magic of their bloodline. They are kept in an enchanted sleep until they are ready to emerge. They are never allowed to experience the pain. If they felt it, it would drive them mad. You are becoming Fae, but you have no Fae bloodline with the magic to aid you in this. Shadow goblins do not produce half-bloods. We lack the magic that is used during the transition. If the rate of change were to escalate…I doubt you would survive it. There is a limit to how much pain any creature can bear, regardless of their fortitude.”

            Sarah tilted her head, “But…I haven’t been in any pain.” Her eyes narrowed, “Why is that?”

            He shrugged. “My magic currently keeps it blocked from you. However, the pain levels are already extreme. An escalation would push them beyond what I could shield you from.”

            Sarah blinked. She’d known she was changing. Her goblins had told her as much and she’d seen evidence of it for herself. She just hadn’t realized that it was this serious. She squeezed his arm and sent her gratitude through the bond. Mere words couldn’t express what she felt. Marvok’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He gave her a slight smile and nodded in acknowledgement.  

            After a moment, she asked, “Will there be anything human left in me when this is done?”

            Marvok cocked his head at her, considering. “Not really. Your human origins will grant you some benefits, however. For example, you will never be vulnerable to iron as many Fae are.”

            She nodded. She’d suspected as much. It wasn’t easy to hear, but it was far from unexpected. “What sort of Fae am I turning into?”

            “Sidhe,” he replied, “for the most part, at least. Your shadow goblin blood will prevent you from being considered pure Sidhe.”

            Sarah nodded again, trying to remain calm as she forced back her tears. Expected or not, Marvok’s words left her emotions in tatters. She realized that some part of her had believed that she would be able to return to the Underground after her birthday. Now, she learned that she couldn’t go home. She was trapped living in the human world and she wasn’t really even human anymore! She wanted to demand answers, to demand to know how long this would take, but she knew Marvok well enough to be certain that he would have told if he could.

            Sarah buried her face into the front of Marvok’s shirt. _Why does everything always have to be so freakin’ complicated?_ she wondered. She breathed in the familiar scent of ozone and hot metal with an underlying note she couldn’t name that she always took to mean ‘predator.’ It soothed her. The smell meant that her goblins were near, and she was safe. Marvok stroked her hair idly and gave her time to calm herself.

            Once Sarah got her breathing under control, she asked, “The King isn’t going to like my answer, is he?”

            Marvok shook his head. “No. He is not. It will be necessary to tell him the truth regarding your transformation.” He sighed. “It would be best if we offered some concessions to placate His Majesty.”

            Sarah considered this. “Why is that important? He has no power over me.”

            Marvok chuckled. “Right now, you are outside of the influence of his personal power. However, you are not outside of his reach.”

            Sarah looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

            Marvok arched a brow at her. “He cannot affect you personally. Unfortunately, his subjects are under no such limitation. He is, after all, a King. He could send battalions to secure you and drag you back to the Underground.”

            She could feel herself starting to panic. How had that not occurred to her? Jareth was a freakin’ King! He had armies, and spies, and supernatural assassins of his very own. She gripped the fabric of Marvok’s shirt so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t tear. Her voice shook when she spoke, “Just tell me what to do. I don’t know how to handle…”

            Marvok squeezed her shoulders with one arm. “You will be fine, _mindin_ _kaidrah_ *. You are never alone. I have a plan. I know how the game is played. I will defend you, but unless you wish to commit treason and begin a war, or spend the rest of your existence in Nightmare, it would be better to sacrifice some of your protection against his magic to secure protection against his ego.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11 Footnotes  
> 1\. “Black as midnight, black as pitch…”: Partial quote from the 1985 film Legend.  
> 2\. mindin kaidrah: Phrase in Stygian (the common tongue of the Nightmare Realms); translates as “(my) little sister”.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has favorited or followed this work and to all of my lovely reviewers. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.   
>  Please review! Kind or critical, reviews really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	12. Welcome to My Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE TO MY READERS: I am terribly sorry for how long it has taken me to update this. I asked for betas, got wonderful responses, and then my health took a nosedive. I’ve suffered from some unfortunate, post-surgical issues that didn’t appear until after I was through with the initial healing. Between trying to recover from long-term illness and major surgery, along with trying to maintain and re-build my business, I had exactly no time or energy left for writing. Most days, my minimal free time was spent curled into a small ball while trying to read. Now, I am slowly getting stronger and finding a balance between my health, my life, and my work.  
> While I don’t expect updates to be as rapid as they were when I started this story, it has most assuredly not been abandoned. However, it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to post new chapters more often than once a month or so for the immediate future. If I’m able to update faster, I certainly will, but I don’t want to set a schedule that I’m not actually capable of meeting. Thank you all for your kind words, concern, and patience.  
> Be warned, this chapter is a bit slow as it is a necessary bridge chapter. Up until this point Sarah has been fairly removed from anything occurring in the Underground and she’s had no real communication with Jareth since becoming Champion. That’s all about to change.
> 
> ***This is my little tribute to the memory of David Bowie who will always be the Goblin King. May he reign forever.***
> 
> Take note that I've fudged the timeline on when Sarah's original journey occurred for various stylistic reasons. In this story, Sarah's original trip to the Labyrinth occurred at the beginning of summer in 1996, NOT 1986.
> 
> I own my original characters and the precise order I put my words down in. The world and characters of the Labyrinth film will sadly never belong to me. I just like to play in their sandbox. I make no money off of this. That said, if anyone owns a spare Jareth, I’m happy to give him a good home. I have references.

**Welcome to my nightmare/** ****  
I think you're gonna like it/  
I think you're gonna feel/  
You belong.

**~ from _Welcome to My Nightmare_ by Alice Cooper**

Nikki opened her eyes to a room painted in the muted colors of twilight. _Why am I awake so early?_ she wondered. She knew that she hadn’t fallen asleep until late last night and she had never been a morning person. Just outside Sarah’s window, the oak tree was in full sunlight. _It sure as hell isn’t twilight outside_ , she realized, _so why is it so dark in here?_ Light should have been streaming in through the window and straight into her eyes, but the whole room was dim, as though it was wreathed in… _shadows_. The thought came to her abruptly. Sarah had referred to the freaky shapeshifters as shadow goblins. The lack of light had to have something to do with them.

            Nikki’s eyes scanned the room, looking for clues to support her hypothesis. She spotted one of the creatures curled up on Sarah’s desk. His eyes were closed, so she took the opportunity to really look at him. _He doesn’t actually look that much like a housecat aside from his face,_ she thought. Feline certainly, the proper size, but he wasn’t _built_ like a housecat. His musculature was too pronounced, too defined. It was like someone had hit a jaguar with a shrink ray. His back feet were tucked beneath him, but his fore-paws were on full display and they were decidedly not cat-like: the toes were too long and seemed to have extra joints, the dew-claws had been modified into something close to thumbs. _They’re hands_ , she realized. _Fascinating._ Her fingers itched for her sketchbook.

            She kept examining details, noting that his fur looked like none she’d ever seen before. It was incredibly short and thick, like high-end velvet. His tail was too long and tapered to really look like a cat’s. _It’s more like a monkey’s tail_ , she decided. _It looks like it might be prehensile. Can he hang from it? His wings are closer to fantasy art of dragons than actual bat wings…And he’s looking at me._ Nikki stared into Azu’s glowing amber eyes and gave him her best apologetic smile. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. He arched one brow at her and she couldn’t help but note that his face was **_way_** more mobile than a cat’s. “Do you have something to ask me?” he rumbled.

            “Um…” Nikki decided that the truth was as good an option as anything else at this point. “I was just trying to figure out what sort of creature you most resemble.”

            Azu stretched fluidly and sat back on his haunches, revealing hind feet that were somewhere between a bird’s talons and a cat’s paws. “This form is based off of that of a grimalkin. They are intelligent, predatory, magical beasts native to the Underground.” He shrugged. “It is a convenient shape for reconnaissance. Or for fitting three of us comfortably into a room of this size.”

            Nikki blinked at that. She imagined three six-foot-plus scary dudes standing in Sarah’s bedroom. He definitely had a point. It would be like sharing an elevator with three linebackers. “So, sometimes you look like this and sometimes you look…” She grasped for a good description. She certainly couldn’t say their other form looked human. She finally settled on “humanoid?”

            He tilted his head. “Those are the two forms we’ve made the most use of in recent years, yes.”

            Nikki chewed her lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she asked, “What does your real form look like?”

            Azu stretched languidly. “Every form we take is our ‘real form.’ We are shadows, little half-blood. What shape does a shadow have?”

            She considered this. “That depends on what’s casting it.”

            He smiled, flashing razor-edged teeth. “And so it is with us. We take the form best suited to stalk our prey. As the object casting a normal shadow determines the shape that shadow takes, so the nature of our prey defines our shape.”

            Nikki sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Your prey? Do you really spend that much time stalking things?”

            Azu nodded, amusement painted across his face. “Of course. We are nightmares, after all—the living manifestations of an ancient fear.”

             Nikki shivered at his words. “What fear is that?”

            The smile never left his lips. “We are the fear of being hunted, of being prey. We are that which waits in the darkness unseen, but watching.” As he spoke, the shadows surrounding them writhed and deepened.

            Nikki’s skin crawled and she looked away from him, breaking eye contact. _It’s definitely time to change the subject._ “Last night you said that the binding on me could be removed by a powerful mage and that one of the Sidhe would be my best bet. Is there any way that you guys could remove it?”

            The tip of his tail flicked back and forth as he considered. “Technically, yes. Marvok could destroy the binding, but you don’t want him to.”

            She looked up at him, disbelieving. “Like hell, I don’t!”

            Azu shook his head. “You misunderstand my meaning. I’m not saying that you don’t want the binding removed. I’m saying that you don’t want Marvok to be the one to undo it.”

            “Why not?” she asked.

            He sighed. “We’re nightmares, child. Our power is born from fear, despair, and pain. To break the binding, Marvok would have to flood you with that power until it overloaded and shattered. We don’t have the right sort of magic to perform a delicate dispelling. It would be much like attempting to perform brain surgery with a hammer. By the time the binding was broken, it is highly unlikely that anything would be left of your sense of self. Having your magic unbound would do your mindless husk little good.”

            Nikki shuddered. “Point taken.” _And it’s time to change the subject again._ After a moment she asked, “So, how do I go about finding a Sidhe mage capable of breaking it?”

            There was another flash of teeth. “Well done, little half-blood. Now you’re asking the right question. In answer, Sarah could always ask the Goblin King. However, you should keep in mind that such favors come at a price.”

            “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m willing to pay his price.”  

            Azu chuckled, “Unfortunately, it’s unlikely that you will be the one asked to pay it. Sarah would be the one making the request. She’s a noble of his kingdom. You have no such status.”

            Nikki shook her head in denial. “No. I can’t let Sarah do that.”

            “You can’t let me do what, exactly?” 

            Nikki turned and gave Sarah a sheepish smile. “We were just discussing ways to get my binding broken…” Nikki let her voice trail off. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. _Sarah **really** doesn’t like having decisions made for her. _ Nikki shrugged and admitted, “I thought you were still asleep.”

            Sarah arched a brow at Nikki and crossed her arms as she leaned back against the headboard. “The solution is fairly obvious, Nikki. I’m going to ask the King. It’s going to take time, though. First, I have to find a way into his good graces.”

            Nikki huffed and looked away. She knew what ** _that_** expression meant when Sarah was the one wearing it. Arguing with a brick wall would be more productive. “I don’t like the idea of you being indebted to this King because of me.”

            Sarah laughed and rolled off of her bed and to her feet in a single, graceful motion. Nikki watched with wide eyes as Sarah arched her back into a stretch worthy of a prima ballerina. Nikki had known that Sarah looked different than she used to, but that was normal, growing-up sort of different. This was…otherworldly different, inhuman different. In that moment, Nikki realized how many changes had occurred in her friend without her ever noticing. _How the hell did I not notice that her ears were pointed?_ Nikki wondered.  

            “Hey! Earth to Nikki!” Sarah’s voice cut into Nikki’s thoughts and Nikki blinked up at her friend sheepishly. “Are you okay?” Sarah asked. “You were just sort of…staring at me.”

            Nikki gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I got lost in my own head there for a minute.”

            Sarah giggled. “In that case, I’m glad you made it back. Who knows what you could have found in there?” Sarah effortlessly dodged the pillow Nikki hurled at her in response and darted to the door. “Come on. Karen promised to leave us muffins and I’m starving. Besides, we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

***JS*JS*JS***

            Jareth sighed as he added a heavy, leather-bound tome to the growing pile of rejected titles. He made a notation on the paper in front of him and picked up the next work. Sarah had requested books and books she would have, but choosing which ones to send to her was no small task. She needed to know about the history and culture of the Underground in general, and of his kingdom in specific. She needed to learn the etiquette, politics, and traditions of the Courts. She needed instruction on how to actually use the power that the Labyrinth had gifted to her. There was so much information to cover and it was now his task to figure out a way to provide her with a general course of study that would supply that knowledge without completely overwhelming her. The entire proposition was absurd.

            Volume One of Lorekeeper Marcovan’s With the Year Shattered: An Analysis of the Underground in Modern Times was added to the small selection of probable choices. The text provided a decent timeline of major Underground events and a general overview of the material covered by the other nineteen titles in the series. It had no depth, but it should at least give her the basics. A part of him wanted to box up all twenty volumes and send them to his impudent Champion along with a note wishing her the best of luck fighting her way through _that_ particular maze without his assistance.

            _Why must she be so damn stubborn about this?_ Jareth grumbled to himself. Everything would be so much simpler if she would just return to the Underground where she belonged. And that, he knew, was the crux of all his current issues. _She needs to be here,_ Jareth thought. _If she was within the Labyrinth, I could keep her safe. I could teach her everything she needs to know._ He couldn’t trust her unknown guardians to do the job, no matter who the hell they were. _She is **my** bondmate and she belongs here with **me**. Taking care of her is **my** responsibility. If only the impertinent girl would deign to allow me to do that!_

            It didn’t help that he was perfectly aware of the Labyrinth’s preparations for Her Champion’s return. The Goblin Queen’s personal quarters had unsealed themselves just the night before. Since the time he first took the throne, the doors had been concealed behind a potent barrier and he’d never before been able to make out the carvings adorning the dark wood. He’d seen them for the first time when he returned to his chambers late in the evening and had spent long moments staring at the double-doors across from his own. The newly revealed imagery was decidedly odd.

            Each of his own doors had the horned sigil of his kingship emblazoned across the center. The corners were decorated with graceful, carved owls and a stylized labyrinth served as the backdrop. It was a fitting design for one of his station. He was king of the Labyrinth, after all, and he not only took the form of an owl, but the native Labyrinthine owls had long served him as spies and messengers. More than one legend named him the Owl King.

            The theme of the Queen’s doors was…different. The left door featured the same horned sigil as that found in his own design, but the right displayed an altered, inverted version—its double-prongs pointing upwards. The remaining space was filled with a tangled motif of burning roses. The distinctive forms of grimalkins were hidden amongst the flowers, their feline bodies slipping in and out of the foliage. _Why burning roses?_ he wondered. _What were they meant to represent?_ _And more poignantly, why grimalkins?_ The mischievous beasts were certainly not unknown in the Labyrinth, but they weren’t especially common either. He knew that Sarah hadn’t encountered any of them during her brief time there.

            _Surely, the Labyrinth didn’t send **grimalkins** , of all things, to be her guardians?_ The thought was horrifying. They were both clever and predatory, but they wouldn’t pose any sort of challenge to a determined foe. _No,_ he reassured himself. _That isn’t possible. Not with the training Bree’Onne saw her exhibit._ The Royal Seneschal insisted that Sarah had received training from a master assassin and the man would certainly know how to recognize that. None-the-less, their inclusion in the carvings indicated a special affinity or attachment to the creatures which was, in and of itself, confusing. He would have assumed that she was expected to develop a grimalkin as her alternate form, if not for the fact that he had never even heard of a Sidhe whose other form was that of an innately magical creature. Such shapes were always creatures of common appearance, able to easily blend in Above. As such, the presence of grimalkins in the composition was bewildering.

            Jareth hadn’t been able to convince himself to open those strange doors and explore her chambers further, so he didn’t know whether or not the perplexing imagery continued inside. He felt Sarah’s absence keenly enough in rooms that hadn’t been specifically created for her. Thankfully, it seemed that there were limits to his masochism.

            Jareth pulled himself from his musings when he felt Bree’Onne’s approach. He bid his Seneschal to enter as he returned to examining the available book choices.

            “A good morrow to you, my Liege,” Bree’Onne greeted. “I’ve brought the morning missives with me.”

            Jareth didn’t bother looking up. He waved a gloved hand in lazy greeting as he continued with his task. _Is Fundamentals of Spell-shaping too difficult for a beginner? _he pondered. _It’s a solid work on learning to cause spontaneous effects, but would it be better for her to start with already created spells?_ He hadn’t, but he knew he was unusual in that regard. _Sarah claimed that her guardians had already worked with her on the necessary mental conditioning exercises and that she didn’t need to learn them, but is she really far enough along to use wild magic safely? It would be wise for me to test her myself before handing over potentially dangerous information. If I limit what I give her to a few volumes on boring, minor spells, then perhaps she could be convinced to allow such a meeting to gain access to better texts._ His lips quirked into a smile as he decided upon a course of action that pleased him.

            **_“My King, I can assure you that my Champion has mastered the mental conditioning necessary to be able to successfully harness basic wild magic,”_** the Labyrinth informed him.   

            Jareth scowled. _“Well then, your Champion can bloody well prove that, can’t she?”_ He had no intention of letting his Labyrinth thwart his plans again.

            Bree’Onne stepped into his field of vision. “Your Majesty. The missives?”

            The Goblin King glanced up at him. “Yes. Yes. Anything of interest?”

            Bree’Onne placed a stack of notes on the small table near Jareth’s newly-repaired desk. “Most of them were standard business matters which I, of course, will attend to myself. The notes regarding those are here. You also have two personal messages. The first is from Lady Brialla. She’s hoping that you’ll permit her to come and visit starting this week.”

            The assassin gave him a hopeful look and Jareth sighed in response. Brialla had all of the intellect of a rock golem, but she was a devastating beauty even by Sidhe standards. That trait, in combination with her mindless adoration of his titles, had made her a most accommodating bed partner over the years. However, his current focus was entirely on coaxing Sarah back into his reach. In the event that he succeeded anytime soon, he very much doubted that she would be impressed by the presence of his prior lovers. He knew that Bree’Onne was concerned for him due to his recently altered behavior patterns, but that visit wasn’t going to be happening.

            “Reject her request. Feel free to fabricate some appropriately courteous drivel if you like. Or just tell her no. I don’t care either way,” Jareth instructed.

            Bree’Onne blinked. “Has Lady Brialla displeased you in some way, Sire? I was under the impression that she was one of your favorite…companions.”

            Jareth sat down the tome that he’d been examining and met Bree’Onne’s onyx gaze. “Lady Brialla has done nothing to earn my ire; she is simply no longer relevant.”  

            The Goblin King cut off his Seneschal’s response with gesture. He’d wanted to avoid this. The situation between Sarah and himself was…personal. However, Bree’Onne’s ignorance had become problematic and the assassin’s loyalty was beyond question. Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed while considering how much to disclose. Finally, he spoke. “The personal quarters of the Goblin Queen unsealed last night.”

            Bree’Onne slid into the chair across the desk from his king. “But…that would mean that the Labyrinth expects for those rooms to be needed in the immediate future.”

            Jareth nodded. “That it does.”

            Bree’Onne considered this. “The Labyrinth will not permit anyone but a Champion to take the throne. If you were to wed any other female, she would be no more than a Princess Consort.”

            Jareth nodded again. “That is correct.”

            Bree’Onne’s eyes widened. “Then the Lady Sarah…”

            “Is the future Goblin Queen,” Jareth stated. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and pulled out an ornate silver flask. “Of course, that would require us to actually convince her to come back and take up the title she’s already won. And then I have to determine how I’m going to convince the chit to marry me—a state of affairs which is **_certain_** to be a **_delight_** considering how well my first proposal was received. Cheers.” Jareth saluted Bree’Onne with the flask and downed a third of its contents in a single draw.

            Bree’Onne’s normal composure lay in tatters as he stared at his monarch. “You already knew,” he whispered. “That’s why you spoke to her as you did at the end of her Challenge. That’s why you’ve been so distracted ever since.”

            Jareth inclined his head in agreement and took another drink. “Indeed. I was searching for a way to work around the geas she placed on me.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ve always loved a challenge, but finding a way to play court to a hostile woman from Above when I’m not able to so much as speak with her is beyond even my normal deviousness.”

            Bree’Onne raked a hand through his inky locks, thoughts churning behind his eyes. “We have to get her back.”     

            Jareth barked out a laugh. “That we do. Nothing to be done about it right now, though.” He shook his head and sealed the flask. “Onto other matters. You said that there were two personal missives. What was the second?”

            Bree’Onne pulled a heavy, black envelope from his folio and passed it to his king. The front bore Jareth’s name and titles in gleaming silver ink. “I believe that you’ve been expecting this one.”  

            Jareth hummed his agreement as he accepted the missive. He’d sent word to the High Court of the Unseelie regarding the monster plaguing the Seelie border settlements some days before and had been awaiting their official response before acting. He flipped the envelope over to crack the seal and froze when it caught his eye. The official seal of the Unseelie Court was silver and ebony. It depicted a crescent moon and three stars. This seal was violet and silver; it bore a familiar design of oleander blossoms flanked on each side by sprigs of belladonna. _Beguiling seduction, poisonous beauty, to be enthralled by that which will destroy you. How well your seal suits you, Mother,_ Jareth mused. _And what ill tidings do you have for me?_

            “This is _not_ from the High Court,” Jareth commented. He held up the envelope up so that that Bree’Onne could see the design. “That’s the private seal of High Queen Mab. This is from her personally.”

            Bree’Onne tilted his head as he studied it. Jareth doubted that he’d ever seen that particular seal in all his years as Seneschal. It was unlikely that he even checked it. The distinctive black stationary was only used by the High Court of the Unseelie. Bree’Onne had no doubt simply used the standard detection spells to verify that it was safe to hand to his king before moving on to the next letter.

            After a moment, Bree’Onne asked, “She wrote you herself? What does that mean, Sire?”

            Jareth’s gaze flicked to Bree’Onne and back to the missive. “Considering my mother’s hatred of writing letters? Nothing good.”    

***JS*JS*JS***

            Sarah entered the park and headed for the tree-shrouded clearing that she had come to think of as her own. She was glad that Nikki had released her from the obligation to go to the party that night. After everything that had happened, Sarah just wasn’t up to dealing with a giant social gathering. Sarah just hoped that her friend would follow her advice regarding the Sight until they could find a better solution.

            As Sarah stepped into the clearing, she saw Marvok and gasped. He sat in center of the space in his humanoid form beneath a beam of sunlight that poured down through the branches above him. The light shattered around him, splintering away from his skin at impossible angles to leave him in shadow. She’d noticed that sunlight never seemed to touch her goblins directly, but the effect had never before been this dramatic. Marvok glanced up at her, one brow arched in query. She didn’t even try to capture what she saw in words, choosing instead to project the image into his mind. He chuckled. “Ah. I forget that you are still not entirely accustomed to such things.”

            Sarah snorted. “As though it’s that easy! I don’t even want to know how many basic laws of physics you’re breaking right now.”

            Mavok shot her a look of offense. “I am doing no such thing. Mortal physicists simply lack full understanding.” He held out one hand and beckoned her closer. “Regardless, we have other concerns at present.”

            She moved to sit facing him. “I’m guessing that there are more steps involved in learning how to physically enter the Nightmare Realm than a simple demonstration.”

            Marvok’s lips twitched into a smile. “You guess correctly, Champion.” His speech feel into the rhythmic cadence he used when teaching her, the one she thought of as his ‘professor voice’. “Shifting between Realms is not an easy thing to accomplish and few beings even attempt it. For the most part, travel between Realms is accomplished via portals: rare places, natural or created, where multiple Realms intersect.”

            Sarah nodded. She was familiar with this concept at least. “Like fairy rings and such. I read quite a bit about them in my research. They can appear overnight and vanish just as quickly, or persist for years.”

            Marvok inclined his head in agreement. “Correct again. Additionally, every portal abides by its own set of rules, its own ‘key’. Less common is the use of gate magic. It works by creating a gateway, albeit a temporary one, bridging the distance between the caster’s location and their desired destination. It is far more efficient than portal travel because portals only connect fixed points. However, gate magic is extremely dangerous and requires intense focus and ability. The slightest loss of concentration can easily cost the caster their life. Further, a gateway can be traversed by anything that can enter it before it closes. It is a visible doorway between worlds.”

            As Marvok spoke, Sarah struggled to focus on his words. Watching the light refract unnaturally around him was making her brain hurt and she had to keep moving her head to stop the warped light from shining directly into her eyes. After no small amount of annoyed shifting, she found a shadowy patch and sighed in relief. “Clearly you don’t travel by gate magic and I’m going to assume that you guys aren’t using a portal to get to the Nightmare Realm since you just sort of appear and vanish no matter where I am.”

            Marvok smirked at that. “No. Shadow goblins do not often use portals or gateways. Some creatures possess the ability to Realm-shift. We can move ourselves directly from where we are in one Realm to a desired location in another. The power is rare, but can be acquired by several different methods. A few powerful masters of High Magic have been able to gain this ability by using rare spells and a handful of magical artifacts grant their users some form of the power. Additionally, there are some who have the power bestowed on them by virtue of their position.”

            Sarah blinked. “Like the Goblin King?”

            Marvok nodded. “Exactly. He is the Lord of the Labyrinth and that title came with the power to traverse the Realms. Even so, Realm-shifting normally requires substantial power and can be very draining. Further, most of those who can use the power have limitations on how and when they can do so and whom they can take with them.”

            Sarah began to ask a question, but Marvok cut her off with a look. “My people possess an innate power that is a form of Realm-shifting. We call it _velkavra*_. From the moment of birth, we are fully capable of transporting ourselves to the Nightmare Realm from anywhere else. As we gain power and skill, we learn to shift ourselves away from Nightmare and into other Realms. We can take anyone we like with us or even send another without shifting ourselves. With enough practice, we are able to shift between different foreign Realms without returning to Nightmare.”

            Sarah shook her head. “But…you said you wanted me to learn how to travel to Nightmare without you… I’m not some sort of master mage! How am I supposed to learn any of this?”

            Marvok stared into her eyes and gave her a grim smile. “As I said, Sarah, the power is innate. It is literally in our blood. From the moment of our birth, we can **_always_** return to Nightmare. Nothing has ever been found that can prevent us from doing so. We cannot be caged or bound. You, _mindin_ _kaidrah*,_ are part shadow goblin. There has never been such a thing as a part-blood shadow goblin before, but the blood bond has made you into such. I honestly do not know if your power will ever allow you to travel between the Realms freely as we do, but if you can call a Darkblade, you can shift to Nightmare. Nightmare already lives within you.”

            Marvok stood and offered Sarah a hand to help her to her feet. She reached out and froze when her hand entered her line of sight. Light warped and refracted away from her skin. _Just like it did with Marvok. I didn’t actually find a shadowy patch,_ she realized. _I made one._

            Marvok ignored this development and continued his explanation. “The first shift will likely be disorienting. I will take you there the first time so that you can experience the feeling and become familiar with the destination you will need to transport to in the future.”

            Sarah shook off her bewilderment. _Freak out over weird light affects later,_ she told herself. _Focus on the rules of inter-dimensional travel now._ She looked up at him and took a deep breath to steady herself before nodding. “Okay. Tell me what to do.”

            “Close your eyes, Champion. Focus your mind on the sensations you feel as we slip between Realms. You already know how to See truly.”

            Sarah closed her eyes as Marvok wrapped his arms around her. For a moment, all was still. She reached out with her senses as they melted into shadows. The sensation was achingly familiar. It reminded her of the time she’d crafted her Darkblade, when she learned to be the river, to flow like water. _Like shadows…_ Sarah thought. She felt Marvok reach out with a tendril of power and a tiny crack opened in the fabric of the world. It was a miniscule thing, a hairline fracture that began to seal as soon as it slipped into existence. But they were faster—a flicker of darkness pouring through it. For a second, Sarah felt herself drifting through nothing, a weightless thing crafted only of thought and will. Then there was pressure all around her and Sarah felt herself solidifying, leaving her shadow state to become flesh and blood once more. She could smell roses and burning leaves. The darkness whispered, “Open your eyes, Champion.” And so she did.

            The ever-burning roses stretched into the distance beneath a roiling purple-gray sky. Sarah felt the Labyrinth’s magic pulsing through her like a heartbeat. She grinned, hugged Marvok tight, then darted toward the roses when he released her. They welcomed her, purring contentedly as they twined up her arms. A joyful laugh bubbled out of her. _Home_ , she thought. _I’m finally back_. She turned and looked at Marvok. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for bringing me home.”

            Marvok tilted his head and arched one brow at her. “I thought that home was the Underground, Champion.”

             Sarah considered this. She **_knew_** she was in Nightmare. She felt Its presence all around her—menace hung in the air like smoke, despair sang through the leaves, rage beat down from the sky with the heat of a noonday sun. _I’m happy here, safe in the dragon’s den_. She smiled at the thought. Sarah glanced back at the predator who defended her. “I thought so too. I was wrong. Home is the Labyrinth and Nightmare is so familiar…” She met Marvok’s gaze. “You are very much a part of this place, aren’t you? Not just in the sense that you live here. The connection is deeper.”

            Marvok’s eyes widened in surprise. After a moment, he nodded. “It is. Nightmare and Dream are the Labyrinth’s twin children, bound together for all time. I am Nightmare’s creation. I was crafted, not born.”

            “Wait? Shadow goblins aren’t born?” Sarah was certain that he’d always referred to shadow goblins as being born in the past.

            Marvok shrugged. “Most are. I was not. I am, as you said, very much a part of this place.”    

            Her face fell. “And guarding me means that you have to live away from your home. I’m so sorry, Marvok. I…”

            He placed a finger on her lips, cutting off her apologies. “I am very old, _mindin_ _kaidrah*._ The time I have been away is less than a heartbeat in the span of my existence. Besides, where I am physically at any given moment means little as I carry my homeland within me. All shadow goblins do, but I more so than most.” He gave her a rare, genuine smile before pulling her from the roses. “Come. I promised to show you the Queen’s Retreat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 Footnotes  
> 1\. velkavra: Stygian (the common tongue of the Nightmare Realms) term; roughly translates as “to fall through darkness”. It is the term shadow goblins use to describe their unique form of innate Realm-shifting. 
> 
> 2\. mindin kaidrah: Phrase in Stygian (the common tongue of the Nightmare Realms); translates as “(my) little sister”.
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks to CaptainXeno for beta-ing this chapter! I send you all my love. 
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos on this work and to all of my lovely commenters. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King. 
> 
> Please leave a comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	13. The Day of Wine and Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***This is my little tribute to the memory of David Bowie who will always be the Goblin King. May he reign forever.***
> 
> Take note that I've fudged the timeline on when Sarah's original journey occurred for various stylistic reasons. In this story, Sarah's original trip to the Labyrinth occurred at the beginning of summer in 1996, NOT 1986.
> 
> I own my original characters and the precise order I put my words down in. The world and characters of the Labyrinth film will sadly never belong to me. I just like to play in their sandbox. I make no money off of this. That said, if anyone owns a spare Jareth, I’m happy to give him a good home. I have references.
> 
> Author’s Note: I’m glad to report that my mind has finally unblocked this story. For some time there, I simply lost the ability to write it. Another story was tugging at me angrily and my attempts to focus on this one only resulted in me writing countless pages of utterly awful, stilted garbage that promptly got deleted. I finally gave up and went to work on the other piece. Thankfully, after I allowed my mind to write what it wanted to for a while, it began growing more of this story as well. I apologize for the incredibly long wait.

            Sarah followed Marvok through the winding paths of the rose maze until they ended in a clearing dominated by a shimmering, stone wall. She would have assumed that the stone was slate, except for the fact that slate didn’t, to the best of her knowledge, sparkle. Emerald vines creeped up the stone here and there and entirely hid the building’s roof from her gaze. Heavy clusters of variegated purple blossoms dripped from the vines and fell across the top of the wall like scalloped edging. _Apparently they have wisteria in the Nightmare Realm,_ Sarah mused. _Or, more likely, something incredibly dangerous that looks uncannily like wisteria._

            After a moment, Sarah noticed the symbol inlaid in silver filigree into the glistening, grey stone. It was reminiscent of the amulet that Jareth… _That the Goblin King,_ she reminded herself…wore. She noted that the image was inverted, its twin horns pointed towards the sky. The difference felt important. “What is this meant to symbolize?” she asked as she tapped the swirling silver lines with one fingertip.     

            Marvok tilted his head, his ruby eyes fixed on the wall. “That is the mark of the Goblin Queen, the counterbalance to the King’s mark.”

            Sarah smiled. For reasons that she couldn’t understand, the information pleased her. It was ** _right_** that the Queen would possess her own mark. The Queen was the King’s equal after all. She **_should_** have her own symbol, her own power. It was unthinkable that things should be otherwise. Sarah froze as she realized the direction that her thoughts had taken. She shook her head, mentally chiding herself. _There is no Goblin Queen. There never has been. Why do I care whether or not she has her own mark? It’s not as though the relationship between Jar…between the King and his hypothetical, future Queen has anything to do with me. It is not, and never will be, my concern._ In spite of her internal rebukes, she couldn’t quite force herself to accept that.

            Sarah turned her attention to her companion, hoping for a distraction from her muddled thoughts. He paid her no mind as he continued to stare at the design in front of him, his expression contemplative. “What should we do now?”

            Marvok’s gaze snapped towards her, quick as a striking viper. He blinked, shook his head, spun back towards the wall, his normally fluid movements reduced to a sharp, stuttering staccato. “I…” he shook his head again before continuing. His voice was soft and distant. “It would give you a great advantage if it could be survived. She would know if it was possible. It has never even been considered before, but perhaps…” His eyes met hers, their glow held an abnormal intensity as he studied her. He nodded as though reaching a decision. “There are those with whom I must speak. Nessos will accompany you in my absence.” With those words, he stepped into a nearby pool of shadows and vanished.

            Sarah trembled, her heart fluttering in her chest as though seeking escape. To the best of her knowledge, nothing bad had happened, but Marvok was **_agitated_** and that, in itself, was terrifying. Agitated was too close to distressed, and distressed was very nearly afraid, and she had trouble imagining anything that could frighten him. She didn’t want to imagine it. Marvok was a murderous, predatory, ruthless nightmare. He didn’t experience fear, he caused it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared blankly at the shadows he’d faded into.

            “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Calm down!” Strong hands gripped her shoulders and spun her to face their owner. Sarah blinked back her tears and buried her face against Nessos’s chest. He sighed, his annoyance apparent, before wrapping his arms around her. “Marvok is clearly going to have to work on his communication skills,” he grumbled.

            Sarah couldn’t calm down. She couldn’t think past the images tumbling through her mind: Marvok in danger, injured, in pain. Nessos and Azu devastated by their loss, disgusted with what a weak, pathetic, little girl she was, by how she’d let their brother be hurt. _My fault,_ she thought. _It’s all my fault._ _I can’t do anything right._ She broke down into raking sobs and would have fallen if Nessos hadn’t caught her. His voice was distant, removed from the horrible images that filled her mind. “By fire and shadow, what the fuck is wrong, Sarah? Your thoughts are so disjointed, I can’t even…” His voice trailed off. “Oh bloody hell. Of course. It’s your first physical trip to Nightmare.” She was only vaguely cognizant of him scooping her up like a child and carrying her away.

            Later, Sarah would dimly recall being sat down on a thickly padded, velvety chair. She’d remember the feel of smooth crystal being pressed to her lips, the order to drink, the sharp flavor of sour cherries, currants, and strange dark spices—it tasted like magic as it passed over her tongue and burned her throat when she swallowed. The images slowed, stilled, faded. She was still a bit worried about Marvok’s out-of-character behavior, but it wasn’t unbearable. _Why was I panicking?_ she wondered.

            Sarah’s eyes opened and found Nessos’s face close to hers, his golden gaze locked with her own. He studied her for a moment and then gave a short, satisfied nod. “Well, at least that worked quickly. Why couldn’t you just enter a state of blind rage or mind-numbing terror like a normal first-timer? Instead of whatever **_that_** was? I would have spotted rage or terror right off, but I have no experience in dealing with…” He waved a hand in a vague indication of her prior emotional state. “ ** _That_**.”

            Sarah shrugged gracelessly, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. “I…I don’t even know what happened.”   

            Nessos sighed as he pushed back a strand of long, ash-colored hair that had come lose from the messy bun sitting at the crown of head. “This is the first time that you’ve ever been to Nightmare in the flesh. All of your negative emotions will be amplified until you adapt to being here and, as you experienced, it can easily spiral out of control. It’s nothing to be concerned about, just a minor annoyance.”

            Sarah considered this. “How many first-timers, as you called them, actually die during one of these spirals?”

            His smile glinted like a knife edge. “Most of them. But no matter! I’m certainly not going to allow you to die during one. You may be a mentally unstable, part-shadow goblin, Sidhe changeling, but you’re **_our_** mentally unstable, part-shadow goblin, Sidhe changeling. I’ve no idea where to get a replacement, so we’ll just have to keep you.”

            Sarah broke into helpless giggles. “Thanks for that. I’m relieved to know that my rarity will keep me safe.”

            Nessos nodded solemnly. “As you should be. Rare things are always the most expensive after all.” He turned his attention to a goblet and decanter that looked like it was made from faceted obsidian. Nessos poured half of a glass’s worth of vermilion liquid into the goblet. She smelled cherries and currants, but no hint of spice—just smooth tartness. Sarah watched, transfixed, as Nessos raised his wrist to his lips and bit down, his sharp-edged teeth cutting through the skin with ease. Black blood dripped into the cup and filled the air with the smell of ozone and exotic spices. He eyed the mixture critically, swirling it in the glass, before holding it out to her. “Drink. One more glass should do it.”

            Sarah’s gaped at him. “That’s what you gave me before? I’m not going to drink your blood! I’m not a freaking vampire.”

            He smirked. “Oh, you’re going to drink it. I don’t care if I have to pin you down and shove my bloody wrist into your mouth. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

            The look in his eyes showed that he wasn’t joking so she accepted the cup with numb fingers. She stared down into the oddly marbled red and black liquid. “But…why?”

            “Because I’m not good at dealing with your emotions and the native magic in my blood is hastening your adaptation. So—drink up. You really should feel privileged. That much shadow goblin blood is worth a fortune in the Underground and you get it for free. You’re a lucky girl.” 

            Sarah reluctantly took a sip of the mixture. In truth, it would have been delicious if she hadn’t known what was in it. “Shadow goblin blood is some sort of delicacy there? I was under the impression that it was poisonous.”

            Nessos’s grin widened. “Oh it’s very poisonous. The amount in your cup right now could kill half-a-dozen people. Nobles will pay a great deal for a potent poison that has no antidote. Especially one that can be easily slipped into spiced blackwine without anyone noticing.”

            Sarah took another drink. “Is being poisoned something that I’m going to worry about all the time when I go back?”

            Nessos chuckled. “Not at all. You’re drinking my blood with no problems. No lesser toxin will be a concern. Anyone who wants to assassinate you will have to resort to a more hands-on method.”

            Sarah gave him a weak smile. “Good to know.” In need of something else to focus on, she glanced around the room. She was sitting in a wingback chair that was covered in plush, emerald velvet. An identical chair sat across from her and an ornately carved wooden table stood between the two. The wood was an unusual dark grey that looked like pictures she’d seen of bog oak. _I don’t even want to know how much that cost,_ she thought. _Maybe it’s common in Nightmare._

            Nessos crouched in front of the unlit fireplace which took up most of the wall that the chairs were facing. She noticed that the floor was covered in large tiles crafted from the same shimmering, slate-like stone as the walls. There was no grout. Instead, the cracks between the tiles were filled with bright green moss. The affect was hauntingly beautiful, but alien. “We’re inside the Queen’s Retreat, aren’t we?”       

            Nessos hummed his agreement. “That we are. Not exactly how we’d planned on showing it to you, but these things happen.”

            She tilted her head back and stared at the not-actually-wisteria hanging above them. _There isn’t a solid roof at all,_ she realized, _just latticework for the vines to cling to. What happens when it rains? Does it rain?_ “Should I even be in here? Isn’t this some sort of private sanctuary for the future queen?” 

            A chuckle answered her. “It’s increasingly apparent that you have no idea what your title means. In the absence of a Goblin Queen, you are well within your rights to claim this place as your own. Noble rank in the Conflux, what you might think of as the Goblin Kingdom, is largely determined by the Labyrinth. Only a Champion can take the throne. King Jareth was the first one to hold that title. You’re the second. Until such a time as the Goblin King has a wife or a child who can also claim the title of Champion, you my dear Sarah, are the Heir to the Throne.”

            Sarah nearly choked on her drink. She turned to Nessos with wide eyes. “Please tell me that you’re joking. I’m not some damn princess!”

            Nessos’s lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “Not a princess, no. You’re neither married to a king, nor the daughter of one. But being a princess is not required to be the next in line in this case. Until another Champion surpasses you in rank by being the Goblin King’s wife or child, the position is yours.” His expression turned contemplative. “I wonder if that’s occurred to him.”

            Sarah downed the remaining contents of the goblet. She didn’t think that she could handle this information. Being a lady was strange enough. _I can’t be the Heir_ , she thought, _I haven’t even spent an entire day in the Underground! I’m not qualified to rule a freaking country there! There has to be someone more capable._ “What if some higher noble became Champion? Like a prince, or a duke, or something, from another kingdom? Wouldn’t they become the Heir?”

            Nessos shook his head. She could feel him silently laughing at her. “The succession goes in order of seniority. The only exceptions would be the current king’s non-existent wife or child, and even they would have to be a Champion in order to outrank you.” He held up the decanter with a mocking smile. “More wine?”

***JS*JS*JS***

            Hours after his abrupt departure, Marvok reappeared in the clearing in front of the Retreat.  Sarah, who was still buzzed from the wine she’d drank, ran out to meet him when she sensed his approach. She pounced on him, throwing her arms around his waist and squeezing for all she was worth. “You’re okay! I was so worried.” She leaned back, eying him critically. “You **_are_** okay, aren’t you?”

            Marvok’s brows rose and his eyes widened. “Am I…” He blinked, bewilderment painted across his sharp features. “You were worried? About **_me_**?”

            Sarah glared up at him. “Of course I was worried! You seemed so agitated and then you just took off! I know that Azu is back at my parents’ house which means that you didn’t have any back up. You’ve told me how dangerous this place is. I mean, I know that you’re from here so I tried to stay calm. But what if you got hurt? Or if something attacked you?”

            Sarah gave him a pointed stare while still refusing to release him from her grasp. He, in turn, stared back at her as though she had completely lost her mind. After a moment, he chuckled and returned her hug. “I admit that you are the only living thing that has managed to surprise me in a very long time, Sarah.”

            Sarah gave an indelicate snort to that. She still didn’t see why he found anything about this situation humorous. “How long is a long time?”

            Marvok’s mirth filtered through the air like smoke. “Many millennia. The last time I felt anything close was when some upstart, young princeling of the Underground managed to defeat the Labyrinth’s Challenge and become the Goblin King.”

            Sarah blinked. _Damn. That is a long time. How freaking old is he?_

            Marvok’s lips curled into a smile. “I appreciate your concern, _mindin_ _kaidrah*_ , but worrying about me is pointless. Very few creatures in this entire Realm would dare to so much as fantasize about attacking me. I am not merely **_A_** nightmare, dear Sarah. I am **_THE_** nightmare. I am that which other nightmares fear.”

            Sarah had no idea how to respond to that. Unfortunately, in her tipsy state, her mouth seemed more than capable of spewing out words without consulting her. “So…what does that mean exactly? You’re the thing that hides in the boogeyman’s closet?”

            Marvok barked out a laugh before nodding. “Yes, _mindin_ _kaidrah_. That is precisely what that means.”       

            _Well…_ Sarah thought. _I guess that answers that._ “So why did you take off anyway? What was so important?”

            He pulled her to one of the stone benches near the rose bushes, gesturing for her to sit with one clawed hand. After she was settled into place, he dropped down to sit sideways beside her. He planted one booted foot on the bench and rested an elbow on his raised knee. “Sarah, you are aware of how little you know about the politics of Underground nobility, yes? And that this could pose a problem?”

            Sarah hung her head and nodded. She knew just enough about medieval politics to grasp that a noble, no matter how minor, who didn’t understand them would be in deep shit. It’s why she’d asked Bree’Onne for books on the subject. She didn’t know how else to even begin to fix the problem. _I thought that I was screwed when I believed that I was just some minor noblewoman. What the hell am I supposed to do now that I know I’m the Heir to the freaking Throne?_

            Marvok sighed. “I have never been one to care about such things enough to pay mind to the minutiae of their politics, and the Sidhe find me so frightening that my lack of knowledge has never been a cause for concern. I am a thing that only the most desperate would even risk summoning. My name is well known, and yet it has been nearly thirteen centuries since a noble of the Underground was brave, or foolhardy, enough to invoke it. Needless to say, my knowledge of public affairs has never been questioned. On the rare occasion that I **_do_** appear amongst the nobility, I am barely expected to abide by the most rudimentary aspects of common courtesy.”

            Marvok shrugged before continuing. “No one requires diplomacy of **_me_**. It is simply assumed that I will eviscerate any imbecile brazen enough to offer offense.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his wild ebon hair. “Sadly, this limits the aid that I can offer you in this area. While I understand the Fae, I am no politician. If you truly wish to eventually live in the Underground, you will have no real choice about taking up your rightful place as a member of the court and that means dealing with the Game, as they call it. Sidhe nobles are raised to it. From their first words they are trained to play the Game and they have centuries to hone their skills before being forced to make true use of them. By your very nature, you will enter their world with a tremendous handicap. Nothing can change that.”  

            Marvok met her gaze, his expression as pitiless and unyielding as stone. “There is blood in the water, Champion, and you will need to learn to swim while the sharks circle you in pursuit of your flesh. As much as I would prefer to simply end any potential rivals, I know enough to understand that you will require other methods. If your ‘bodyguards’ threaten all of your purely political adversaries, it will only make you look weak and prevent you from ever being accepted, let alone gaining their respect.”

            Sarah swallowed back her nerves before meeting his gaze. She clenched her hands together in her lap. “What do you suggest?”

            Marvok flashed a knife-edge smile that glimmered with malevolent delight. “I suggest that we use every weapon that can be turned to our purpose. I may not be an expert on politics, but I am an expert on fear and we **_can_** use that.”

            Sarah stared at him in confusion. He might be terrifying, but she sure as hell wasn’t, and he’d just said that the shadow goblins couldn’t just go around threatening everyone.

            Marvok waved off her protests before she could voice them. “Your largest point of vulnerability is your lack of a House. In all Fae-controlled Realms, nobles are assembled into Houses. Their Houses provide them with protection and power in exchange for their allegiance. An offense against one member is an offense against all. The system dictates many actions taken by the nobility. Even if an individual noble is weak, if they are from a powerful House then others are cautious about moving against them. You are currently in the same position as an orphaned noble child whose House has been destroyed—a ward of the crown.”

            Sarah considered this. “And being a ward of the crown makes me look weak. Are you saying that I should somehow find a way to join a Sidhe noble House?” While a House seemed like an excellent thing to have, she had no idea why one of them would want **_her_**. _How the hell do they even add members?_

            “Absolutely not,” Marvok sneered, “though I suspect that will be His Majesty’s plan. While he is personally a member of two incredibly powerful Houses, neither of them allows for one not of their blood to be admitted through any means aside from marriage. I believe that he most likely intends to pressure one of the Houses which owes him fealty into accepting you as a member, but that is problematic for a number of reasons.”

            Sarah’s laugh held no humor. “Like the fact that they would no doubt resent me for it? Or try to control me and use me for their own ends? Or that I would still be viewed as a weak child that the King had to provide for?”

            Marvok’s lips quirked into a smile. “You **_are_** learning. Clever girl.”

            Sarah looked down and rubbed her temples. She could feel her mind trying to slip back into panic and wrenched herself back into focus by sheer force of will. “So what’s your solution?”

            Marvok tilted his head, studying her expression intently. “Sidhe are not the only ones with Houses, _mindin_ _kaidrah_. While we rarely become involved in Underground politics, my House is greatly feared and of unquestioned power. The idea of binding you to House Vel’Xindi* had honestly never occurred to me because the blood rites required would normally kill anyone other than a shadow goblin.” He glanced to the side, his face contemplative. “Admittedly, there is also the fact that we have never been particularly **_friendly_** with other races. Regardless, **_you_** are part shadow goblin. You hold two Darkblades and are irrevocably bound to me and my pack. I needed to find out if my idea was feasible so I sought the guidance of the Labyrinth and the thoughts of my House’s _Zyr’covra_ *.”

            Sarah looked up at him, her eyes bright with wonder. _He would do that for me? The Labyrinth may have ordered him to guard me, but now he’s talking about making me part of his family_. She wondered what the rest of his House would think of the idea. “ _Zyr’covra_? Is that like your leader?”              

            Marvok shook his head. “Not at all. It means something like ‘Shade Speaker’. The closest concept that you might be familiar with would be a priest, or perhaps a shaman.”

            Sarah gave him a watery smile. “I would love to be part of your House, Marvok. I can’t believe that you’d do that for me.”

            Marvok stared at her appraisingly. “Sarah, are you drunk?”

            She shook her head. “Not anymore. Nessos cut me off and made me eat.”

            He blinked. “May I ask why you were drunk to begin with?”

            She shrugged. “I had a panic attack. Because…Nightmare. Nessos gave me his blood mixed with wine that tasted like sour cherries. Then he told me that I was the Heir to the Throne. I guess he wanted to see if I’d freak out again. I didn’t. Well, I did a tiny bit, but not completely. So the blood must have worked, but I **_did_** keep drinking.”

            Marvok sighed. “Until he cut you off.”

            “Until he cut me off,” she agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13 Footnotes  
> 1\. mindin kaidrah: Phrase in Stygian (the common tongue of the Nightmare Realms); translates as “(my) little sister”.  
> 2\. House Vel’Xindi: The shadow goblin noble House that Marvok is a member of. Vel’Xindi translates from Stygian as “Shadow Heart”.  
> 3\. Zyr’covra: Stygian title; translates as “Shade Speaker”. They are the Nightmare Realm’s version of spiritual advisors, keepers of history and traditions, and masters of ceremonies. Their role is somewhat similar to that of a priest or shaman
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos or comments on this work. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King. 
> 
> Please comment! Kind or critical, comments really motivate me to keep writing. Nothing brightens my day more than knowing how my readers are responding to my work. My Muse lives off of feedback. So please feed her! Please leave a contribution in the little box.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: Because I’ve received some questions regarding this issue, I want to clarify something. I am familiar with actual folklore and myth. While I do not claim to be a specialist on any particular culture’s mythology, I have studied this area extensively. Any actual folklore or myths referenced in this work have been warped, sometimes past all reason, to suit the purposes of the story and the cosmology I’ve created for it. 
> 
> I am aware of the fact that nothing I reference is a perfect match to actual legend. This was an intentional decision. This is a work of fiction, not a scholarly treatise. Furthermore, it is a work of Fanfiction based on source material which does not necessarily abide by any specific mythos. I understand if some of my readers don’t agree with my choice. I respect your preference for works that stay true to the historic understanding of legend. That said, it was my choice to make and I stand beside it. This story would not exist at all if I had made any other decision. I would like to thank everyone for reading.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I Move The Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8080216) by [CaptainXeno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainXeno/pseuds/CaptainXeno)




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